Kill Time, Injure Eternity
by Svelte Rose
Summary: She had done everything from changing her appearance to hiding her true character. With a flick of his wrist and a devilish smile, he'd shattered her armor. In order to kill the enemy, she'd have to capture his heart, and break her own. Tom&Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Part: **01

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, various ancestors

**Warnings**: The madness that I have pulled from my mind and transfused into this work.

**Date**: September 2nd, 2007

**Note: **I have finally written a TT fic involving one of my favorite pairings of all time. There's another one in the works and both are going to be monsters of a project. Lord help me because I really should be focused on other, more important matters right now…

* * *

He was a very pleasant boy, charming everyone he encountered. Like the old fairytale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, he was the star of the story with skin as white as snow, hair as black as night and lips as blood red trying to escape a stepmother who was evil personified. 

Except he was the evil personified and his 'Seven Dwarves' were much more vicious than the helpful men in the children's story.

She lifted her eyes up for a scant second and then quickly looked back down to the open page of her book, catching a short glance of the Slytherin Prefect. He had an uncanny way of catching people who stared at him and she'd rather not let him know she existed; after all, she wasn't even supposed to be there. Her appearance made it easy for the thousand and some students of Hogwarts to swallow her up, so even if people did bother to spare her a single glance, all they'd see was a tiny slip of a girl and just cast it off as another face in the crowd.

She could feel it. She could feel his eyes, the cool, assessing gaze of his crawl over her like a million little spiders and it took every fiber in her being not to shudder. Forcing herself to concentrate on the letters before her, she waited until the feeling passed. It was a mere second, but to her it felt like a lifetime.

Then, he was gone.

Her eyes would have blazed with hatred…

Had she not lost the ability to feel long ago.

* * *

"_Hermione! Is he…" Parvati left the question unspoken as the curly-haired witch stormed into the castle looking worse for the wear. Not too far behind, Seamus and Dean came limping both looking just as worn as Hermione did._

"_Remember the warding charms I taught you?" She said instead in a quiet voice, her eyes eerily calm. The only thing that belied her calm countenance was the fist tightly clenching her wand. "They won't hold, but they will give the remaining survivors time to escape." _

"_What about Ron and his group? They're still outside aren't they?" Hannah questioned, her own wand tightly clenched in her hand._

_Seamus and Dean would not look at her. Hermione forced a smile on her face, "Please, they won't take long to break through."_

_A sob barely made it past Lavender's lips before she threw both hands over her mouth, face wrenching in pain as the unspoken information registered._

_Turning away, light brown eyes narrowed in concentration while a string of spells were muttered in coordination with a series of intricate wand movements. Despite the wound on his leg, Dean was the first to lift his wand and began casting another series of protection spells on the Hogwarts' entrance. Seamus quickly caught on and pretty soon, there was nothing but the sound of spells hitting the wall as each spray of magic enforced the stone barriers. A faint shadow of their opponents could be seen coming towards the castle from a distance._

_That had meant their first and second line of defense had fallen._

_Seamus threw a nervous look at the curly-haired witch to his right and gulped hard. She was right; they didn't stand a chance with their mediocre spell-casting, small numbers and unskilled duelers while their opponents possessed them in spades and then some. The wards would hold but not for long. They probably wouldn't even hold long enough to-_

"_LOOK OUT!" Hermione shrieked just as something hit the castle and shattered the glass windows. Knocking herself into the girls, both skidded across the stone floor while a cacophony of glass fell down on them._

_Colin pulled Parvati and Hannah up and those that could move were already dashing off towards safety._

"_Find the survivors! Get them into the secret passage!" Dean bellowed as he stayed put with Seamus and Hermione._

_Seamus was concentrating on levitating several large pieces of furniture to hold against the thundering doors._

_A harsh cough caught Dean's attention before the marble floor of Hogwarts was littered with a spray of crimson blood._

_Embedded in Hermione's neck was a piece of glass. Blood dribbled down her chin as her eyes glazed over in pain._

"_Hermione!" Seamus screamed._

Her eyes snapped wide-open, taking in the darkness while her hands clutched tightly at the sweat-soaked sheets and a bead of perspiration slowly made its way down her temple. Her heart was going a million miles a minute as her mouth opened and closed, gasping for the much needed air.

Taking a much needed moment to gather herself, she took several deep breaths until her heart rate had returned to normal. Shoving the curtains aside and brushing aside a sweat-drenched lock of short hair, she crawled out of bed, leaving a bunch of tangled sheets and covers in her absence. Her feet padded softly across the wooden floor, careful not to wake any of the sleeping habitants.

In the bathroom, she splashed a handful of icy cold water upon her pale face and was chagrined to find how haggard her appearance was. Lackluster blond hair (charmed to remain straight) hung in limp, clumpy, short strands around her gaunt, angular face. Purple circles under her eyes stood out prominently against her pale cheekbones and her lips were cracked and bloody- probably from being woken up so roughly by the nightmare of hers.

She sighed and silently conjured a towel to dab at her face with. Breathing in the fresh cottony scent of the towel, she clenched her jaw and willed the memories away. She had been able to survive thus far and _damned if she was going to let a psychological breakdown ruin it for her._

The sound of a door opening made her stiffen slightly and from the corner of her eye, she watched as a sleepy Ravenclaw made her way to one of the stalls. The girl pulled the curtain closed without a single glance at her and then the unmistakable sound of someone relieving themselves filled the air.

She took her leave.

* * *

Every time she entered the classroom, she found her control slipping just a fraction. Even if she was able to gain it right back, the idea that the tight reign she had on herself could falter any moment sent a chill down her back. Despite the negative emotions it garnered, it wasn't a hateful place at all- in fact, it was the very opposite. Not only had it been the room of her favorite subject but she found that she very nearly adored the two latest teachers who attended the post of the Transfigurations' professor (and they in return). Then when _he_entered, it was all she could do not to run across the room and throw herself in his arms, spilling every thought that plagued her so. Whoever said pain erased with time had probably never felt true pain before because no matter how many times she entered this classroom (every school day for several weeks now), she felt the same intense emotions. 

It was uncontrollable and she certainly could not have herself losing her hold on sanity in a fit of water works. But at the same time, his presence provided a semblance of peace she thought she had long forgotten, a peace she had belied to her friends but did not possess when she was alone by herself in the dark. Everyone wore emotional masks and this was hers.

Head bent down and fingers stained with ink, her quill recorded every word that emitted from his mouth. Sometimes, she even let herself revel in the brief comfort that it seemed only he could provide.

"Professor, what Animagus form are you?" A sixth year Gryffindor questioned ardently.

This caught her attention and involuntarily, her head snapped up, plain light brown eyes meeting twinkling blue orbs. Most of his students seemed to share her adoration for their professor.

He chuckled, "That, my dear, is a secret. Can't have you knowing when I go sneaking around, can you?"

Some students gasped while others snickered and giggled. To her surprise, she found her mouth twisting up in a rarely used expression (these days).

"I_ am_ registered with the Ministry, however, so that _they_ know when I go sneaking about." He chuckled to himself.

As she glanced at the students throughout the room, she was met with smiles all around. _She had not come across this much content since…_

"Alright, students, do not forget that your essay is due tomorrow and do remember to prepare for your quiz." He announced. The students, realizing class was dismissed hurried to pack their bags, shuffling papers and books.

With a pair of eyes digging into her back, she too, hurried and much more quickly than others. Papers were jammed into her bag, ink and quill following not too long after. She needed to get out before-

"Miss Ronegn, I need to speak with you."

She stiffened immediately, her hand in the middle of closing her over-stuffed bag. Slowly turning around, she clasped her hand behind her back and calmly nodded, "Yes, Professor?" The students walked around her and quickly filed out of the room.

She was met with his unwavering gaze.

He whirled his wand in his slender fingers before he tucked it into his sleeve and stood up mimicking her posture of clasping his hands behind his back. He seemed to hesitate, as though carefully choosing what he wanted to say. She waited patiently, a deep sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

"I have come across many a powerful witches and wizards in my time, most of them during my career here at Hogwarts…" He began while his curious blue eyes flickered to her stoic stance.

She nodded, letting him know she was listening.

"Some choose to advance in their fields by taking up a profession in regards to it and others choose to pursue it in less than admirable ways."

She shifted her weight onto the other foot, eyes seemingly avoiding his.

"However," He paused with a finger stroking his long auburn beard, "I have yet to come across a student who is more than brilliant, _purposefully_ holding herself back and I can't seem to figure out why."

Her blood ran cold as her lips distinctively tightened, "What are you saying, sir?" The words were defensive, _fighting_ even.

His unwavering gaze was now focused on her, looking as though he could see right into her soul and she could not help but fidget a bit, "You, Miss Ronegn." Then his voice changed from calm to admonishing, "You, who transferred to our school so suddenly and who promises of great potential…why are you holding yourself back?"

Her mouth opened several times and she wondered how she would answer. The Dumbledore she knew, the same that was standing before her, seemed to know everything and this proved it. Even if she did say something, he would probably be able to pick out the falsehood in her words. But what other option was there?

_Tell the truth? _

That was out of the question.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Part: **02

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, various ancestors

**Warnings**: The madness that I have pulled from my mind and transfused into this work.

**Date**: September 2nd, 2007

**Note: **It was originally one chapter but it become too long so I had to separate it. Thanks to my beta, Nicole for correcting my many grammar mistakes.

* * *

_Her mouth opened several times and she wondered how she would answer. The Dumbledore she knew, the same that was standing before her, seemed to know everything and this proved it. Even if she did say something, he would probably be able to pick out the falsehood in her words. But what other option was there? _

_Tell the truth? _

_That was out of the question. _

Finally, she just answered, "I'm not."

It was a lie and if the flash in his blue eyes were any indication, she knew he knew it too.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to consider his answer once more before he nodded in askance, "Alright. That is all, I suppose."

She flinched at the disappointment in his voice and tugged on her bag uncomfortably. Suddenly, she found the floor to be of interest before she brought her head back up again, voice biddable, "I only wish I were as brilliant as you believe me to be," then in an even softer tone, "I am sorry to have disappointed you."

He turned away from her, an uncertain emotion in his eyes, "Not at all, Miss Ronegn, you haven't disappointed me at all, you do puzzle me, however."

She threw him what she hoped to be a _confidant_ smile which really only resulted in being _tight_ and _uncertain_, "All humans are a puzzle of some sort, I gather."

His chuckle sounded throughout the room, "Yes, yes, they are."

She was relieved he had let the issue go for the moment but that didn't stop the inadvertent thoughts she had tried to keep at bay for so long, come thundering into the recesses of her mind. _If she was truly as brilliant as everyone believed her to be, maybe things wouldn't be such a great mess and maybe, she wouldn't be having this conversation._

"I believe that is all, Miss Ronegn."

She nodded before hurrying out the door. Only outside the transfiguration's classroom did she blow out the deep breath she'd been holding.

* * *

Nostalgia was a common emotion she found herself feeling, these days.

She never would have said it before but now, she would proudly admit that she missed the spectral entity of her History of Magic professor. It was a reminder of older, happier times when she would be the only one awake, wildly scribbling notes and laughing to herself because most of her class were either napping or drooling profusely on their notes or a combination of both. Mostly the latter.

She never noticed it before, but time did have a sneaky way of making you take notice of things. For instance, when she first came across their one and only ghost-Professor, she had found his voice boring and monotone. Now, she noticed Professor Binns' voice had a deep, rumbling timber quality to it which was peaceful and tended to sooth her sometimes-tumultuous emotions. In fact, she could now tell why he loved this subject so much that even death could not remove him from the position. His intonation, the passion behind his words…he completely, irrevocably enjoyed every moment of his work even if his students did not. For all its dates, all its notes, all its inadequacies…history _was_ the man's life.

Her quill flew rapidly across her page, capturing every single word that dropped from his mouth. She would never deign to disregard him as she had before.

* * *

_Seamus' horrified face filled her blurry vision as she gasped for air, aware of the intense pain coming from her neck. _

"_Merlin's beard, no! Hermione, no!" His gruff voice rasped as his hands hovered above her face, tears dripping down his cheeks. "You're the only one left, this can't-," He shook violently, his bruised hands clenching in a tight fist._

_Dean knelt down at the other side, his eyes wide as he swallowed hard. Doing a 'Hail Mary' and muttering underneath his breath, he motioned to the stricken Seamus, "I need you to hold her down."_

"_What?" He asked hoarsely, wet eyes looking up at his best mate._

_Dean repeated in a harsh yet stern voice, "Hold her down. Look, we can get healing potions back at the Room of Requirement but I need to get that glass out before it makes it's way any deeper and hits something vital if it hasn't already."_

_Seamus nodded stiffly, not understanding anything much past having been told he was to restrain her but knowing it was important none the less._

_Dean's long fingers touched the bloody area and pulled back quickly when the witch jerked in pain, her mouth opening and closing as her hands clutched her shoulder beneath the wound. "Okay, I'm pretty sure it missed any major arteries but she's still losing a lot of blood. Are you ready?"_

_Seamus blinked wildly, his hands gingerly grabbing her shoulders, "What are you going to do?"_

_Dean didn't answer or even look at him. He bent down, fingers slowly closing over the shrapnel of glass as Hermione's steady brown eyes flashed at him in pain._

It was these days that she realized the meaning of her parents' words – her real parents (not the one she'd confounded and only talked to when she needed money) – and what they meant when they had told her not to take things in life for granted. She had been so focused on her studies and extending her knowledge by devouring as many books as possible. In the end, she had made it her priority when other, more irreplaceable things should've been appreciated much, much more. She still loved books and the seeking new knowledge but it was no longer a priority. Now, she did it because she didn't have anything else better to do.

Appreciation was one thing she took for granted. Doing a spell correctly and having her teacher compliment her (whether it was through a word of praise or hidden behind a veil of disdain), she drank it all up and became inspired to work even harder. There was no limit as to what one could do if they put their mind to it. Sure, she was made a mockery of and called many names but she_ didn't_ care. She could take care of herself and besides, the taunts _had_ grown lesser with time.

She wanted respect from the people who mattered and to her they were her professors and teachers, even if not recognized by the world as such. They were the ones who had already gone through that superficial stage of school and gossip. They knew what was going to be a valuable asset in life just like she did and they appreciated her all the more for it. As long as they did, it didn't matter what the taunting classmates said about her behind her back or to her face. She could've done without the negative attention; she didn't care for any attention at all but she got it nonetheless and took it with a grain of salt.

Now, she did everything she could to get people from noticing her. From changing her appearance to only speaking when necessary…thankfully, she has had to barely utter a word since she started school. It alienated her house mates from her but that only ended up serving her original purpose.

Everyone seemed fine to not pay her a single moment's notice…except Dumbledore it seems. But that was predictable; he seemed to notice everything and everyone.

_But she knew that even he wouldn't know what to do to help her situation._

Friendship was what made her feel the biggest regret of all. Despite their otherwise rocky beginnings, her and her two friends were the closest anybody could be and if there were such things as having two soul mates without any attached romantic feelings whatsoever, then they would be hers. Sure, people thought she would probably get together with one of them- one particular red-headed one, in fact. No mistake, they _had_ tried and it didn't work out but it was alright because their friendship was stronger than ever in the end.

She wished she had gone out with them every single time they'd chased her down in the library, instead of finding company with the books she so loved. 'Another day' she would promise and that day was few and far in between because they soon learned that if she had a book in her hands, nothing would tear her away from it. Not even the promise of butterbeer and fun times just from laughing together and chasing each other around until one of them fell down from fatigue- nothing would make her stop absorbing all she could from the vast books in the library. But they would keep trying though the attempts lessened with time.

She especially detested it when they tried to 'cure' her of her fear of heights by demanding she confront it. When she nearly broke her neck from the ten-story fall, they had realized there was a reason why she had chosen to stay off a broom all this time and why_ they_ were the ones who had been blessed with superior flying skills. Oh what a scolding she'd given them. Thankfully, the debacle was forgotten the next day over a bag of Honeyduke's best dark chocolate and bottled butterbeer they had stolen from the kitchens.

She had thought they would be together forever, that nothing could destroy them because they were the Golden Trio.

As she mounted the broom and slowly lifted a few feet from the ground, she wondered to herself.

_Can you see me, boys? _

_Do you see what I can finally do?_

_Aren't you proud of me? _

_Even if I've said it before, I'll say it again, I'm proud of you two. I'm so proud of you two._

She missed them so, so much that sometimes, the pain was unbearable.

* * *

"_Ferchrissakes!" Seamus swore as Dean withdrew his bloody hand and flicked the glass piece over his shoulder._

_Dean then quickly pulled out his wand and did a hasty healing charm on her gaping neck wound before he lifted her up by the arm just as the front doors blew open._

"Excuse us! Coming through!"

She promptly moved to the side of the hallway, her hand rubbing gingerly at her neck, as a couple of boys rushed pass her, laughing and shoving each other playfully. Momentarily, a pair of bespectacled green eyes flashed in her mind and a pain thudded deep in her heart.

"Sorry!" One of the boys called out their apologies to her before he was pulled along by his friends.

Inside the Grand Hall, it was a great mess of moving bodies as students pushed and shoved to get a decent seat at their house tables. Some would greet friends sitting at other tables while others just kept to themselves.

It was not at all different from whence she came from which was surprising. The _times_ were different. _Very different._

She ate quickly; only a few more minutes left of her lunch break.

* * *

She waited until the rest of the class left, many students hurrying to the Grand Hall for dinner. Once the last straggler emptied from the room, she approached the desk of her Potions professor and smiled warily. She didn't mind Slughorn before, in fact, might have even liked him. But if her suspicions were correct, then he would soon be giving her a very good reason to abandon all previous notions of any positive emotion towards him whatsoever.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Ah yes!" Came the exuberant response as he pulled out a crisp sheet of parchment paper from his drawer and handed it to her. "This is what I called you for."

Her eyes caught sight of the red mark above her name. A puzzling look was thrown his way as she asked, "I don't understand. I'm in trouble because of this grade?"

He chuckled, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk, "You are not in trouble. However, the reason I called you here _is_ because of the grade or rather, the content of the essay."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she quickly glanced at the essay, "Am I to understand that despite the mark-," She motioned to the 'O' on her essay, "-that it was not to your liking? I am confused." She knew her words sounded robotic but she couldn't help it.

His mouth dropped open as though horrified, "Not to my liking? Why, my dear, far from it!"

She was getting impatient now; couldn't he just say what he was up to without dangling her like a limp chocolate frog?

He breathed in deeply and the most beatific smile appeared on his face. Gently taking back the essay, he looked upon it with his eyes shining as though it were the most precious treasure in the world. "My dear," he began. "This is probably the best piece of written work on the effects of the moon on werewolves I have ever come across in my entire lifetime. It doesn't surprise me you know, because the quality of your papers has always been exceedingly superb; borderline genius if not genius itself and seems to only get better with each assignment." Then with a dry tone, "It is the _only_ thing I look forward to reading without worries of my brain rotting on some junk one of your peers has crafted."

_Stupid, stupid…she should've written about something simple and stupid like the Amortentia Potion or Pepper-Up Potion._ She nodded, a forced smile gracing her delicate features. "Thank you, Professor Slughorn. Although I am sure the compliment is exaggerated."

"Not at all. You are too modest, I fear." He said with a flippant wave of his hand, "Let's not even get started on your actual performance in class, shall we?"

A pink tint dusted her cheeks as she glanced away to collect herself before looking back at him, "Thank you, sir. But is that all you needed me for?"

Collecting himself, he nodded quite vigorously, "Ah yes, there is the matter of _that_…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Part: **03

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, various ancestors

**Warnings**: The madness that I have pulled from my mind and transfused into this work.

**Date**: September 2nd, 2007

**Note: **This is probably my favorite part most of all. Pwehe. Shout out to Nicole. Without her, this story would be unreadable with the littering of grammatical errors everywhere.

* * *

She opened the room and blew a sigh of relief when she realized her roommates were gone. Leaving her bag on the floor, she slowly crawled into bed and pressed a soft pillow to her face, breathing deeply as her brain furiously worked to solve the newest problem. 

Slughorn was someone who was very aware of his skills and never failed to present them in a glorious light. He was arrogant and proud (she could not fault him for something she had done once) and encouraged others to do the same through his small 'get-togethers.' One did not refuse the invitations to these gatherings, not only because they were hard to come by, but also because one did not wish to irritate such a well-networked professor whose recommendation could very well make or break one's future after Hogwarts.

Not that she had a future to look forward to but it _was_ the principle of the matter.

Much as people liked to believe otherwise, life was truly a series of accidents rather than the events dealt by the hand of a divine power. Humans were (and still are) capable of great kindness and great depravity. It was this irony that ruled the universe with an iron fist.

Slughorn's purpose was one of them. It was strange how people were always in want of belonging to something, yet, exclusivity drew them like moths to a bright light.

She was not one of those moths.

As she stared at the innocent invitation in her hand, it did not come as a surprise when she wished to burn it even though she would've framed it before. She had worked very hard to remain solitary, unseen and unheard. To be otherwise was a prospect she had shuddered to even think about.

_Time was a fickle thing in life. Like frames in a film, it played one right after the other, yet existed side by side. If one altered a single frame, it would affect all frames thereafter, a catalyst to an otherwise stable original._

She was like finding a needle in a haystack among the thousand-some students that attended Hogwarts. In a dorm of more than a couple hundred, she was a shadow no one deigned to notice. In a classroom of thirty, she was just another student.

But in a gathering of only less than ten people, they would be forced to know each other. After all, one kept an eye on their friends but an even closer eye on their enemies. Not only would they be recognized as each other's almost-equal if not equal, but also as one another's competitors. To be so close…

It was the first strike.

_She wasn't ready. Not by far._

* * *

She had entered behind a group of giggling girls, the subject of their amusement lost to the pounding in her head as adrenaline kicked in and her senses went into hyper-mode. She had stuffed her hands in the sleeves of her robe to hide the death-like grip she had on her wand which helped her posture in presenting a figure of cold aloofness. Like every other time, this had kept the others away thus far. Professor Slughorn greeted each and every student at the door, shaking her hand rather vigorously and then offering her the myriad of sweets and snacks laid out on a wide table. Thankfully, it was a brief greeting as he quickly moved onto the next student while she made herself a little niche in a dimly-lit corner, a bored look pasted on her face. Underneath it all, she could feel her muscles tensing slightly and had to take several deep breaths before the pounding of her heart returned to its normal rate. 

While the object of her ire had yet to arrive, she knew he was bound to make his entrance anytime now, charming persona in place while hidden intentions flashed in his green eyes- hidden intentions that nobody, but herself, knew about. In such a personal setting, they were bound to cross paths, which was something she had strictly warned herself in not doing ever since she had arrived. No matter how much she wanted to, she could not play God even if he was the Devil.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood to abrupt attention as the Slytherin Prefect entered the room, grinning brightly at the teacher while casting his greetings to several others around the room. People had quickly made their way towards him to shake his hand and make their 'hellos' while she made sure to stay in the corner, not calling attention to herself.

She had not considered that that which was supposed to make her unnoticeable had captured_his_ attention _very much_. Life was ironic that way.

When he lifted his head up towards her, she supposed she should've looked away, she supposed she should've made sure her emotions were _more_ in check, and she supposed she shouldn't have issued the wordless challenge.

Because when his eyes turned cold after a brief moment of confusion, she knew with an all too sinking awareness than he had accepted her challenge, whatever it may be.

That had been the second strike.

She could no longer remain hidden.

_There was no turning back now._

* * *

_Leaning up against the wall, she had wiped at the blood dribbling freely down her chin as Seamus and Dean walked back and forth rapidly. Shouts could be heard coming from the end of the hall and all around them, portraits screaming as smoke filled the air._

_Finally, the door to the Room of Requirements opened and Seamus quickly hobbled past the relieved looking Luna who passed him a vial filled with a potion to heal whatever wounds he had sustained. _

_Hermione stood up, flashing a look at the usually serene Ravenclaw girl before giving her an affirmation in the form of a stiff nod. She wanted to hiss in pain at this movement but managed to bite her tongue; the dark Gryffindor had yet to realize that she was not going to follow him into the room._

_Dean was not without his own intelligence, however. He had caught the steely resolve on the Ravenclaw's face and turned immediately on his heel. Just as he reached out with his wand to summon the curly-haired girl on the other-side of the doorway into the room, the stone door quickly slammed shut, absorbing his spell and rendering it useless. The seam of the doorway disappeared and no matter how many times he tried to reopen it, it would not appear again._

"_I'm sorry but this is what she wanted." Luna had said in her soft tone before walking towards the other wounded students._

_On the other side, Hermione had pushed herself from the wall and was doing a series of intricate wand movements. One spell in particular was used to purposefully slice her palm open. She cupped her hand to keep the seeping blood from dripping everywhere as she quickly made her way towards the wall. Smearing a crude streak across the space where the doorway had been, she muttered under her breath in an old language, this time using her wand to once again, draw various lines and curves in the air._

_The runes cast by the wand hit the wall, one right after the other. After each hit, the wall pulsated more and more with her power. Just as she muttered her last spell, a horde of black-robed figures wearing white masks surrounded her in the hallway, wands drawn menacingly._

_A bolt of red hit her soon after and her own wand fell to the floor with a clatter as she fell none too gently after._

"_Careful, he gave us specific orders on how to treat this one." One of them ordered._

_She could've cared less as to what he had said because even if her wand had fallen from her hand, the spell had already left the slender piece of wood. Joining its partners, the final rune embedded itself into the wall, absorbing the blood she had smeared earlier. The Death Eaters couldn't possibly even try getting to her comrades now. The protection wards, borderline Dark Magic, were complete and nothing, not even her own death would remove it._

_Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light as magic pulsed through the castle in a single large wave._

"Expelliarmus!" Came the shout from the other side of the room.

With a flick of her wand and words muttered under her breath, a shielding spell covered her. As soon as the bolt bounced off the shield, she let it fall and cast one of her own offensive spells, "Protego!"

He threw it off like it was nothing.

"Stupefy!" He yelled immediately after, the red bolt shooting from his wand.

_Stay in control. Don't lose focus. _

She lifted her wand as though to do another shielding spell, but at the last second, dropped her hand and the spell hit her. Her short, blond hair fell in a curtain around her face, hiding the relieved smile that had taken place. She had not wanted to duel, least of all _him_. But as per the curriculum, she had been required to and unfortunately drew his name as her opponent. However, control was the key, as she had to keep a tight grip on certain factors about her that if revealed, would cause more questions than give more answers. She did not need any more speculation than she already got from her fellow classmates. First, for basically being an unknown but none the less being invited to Slughorn's party, second in her dismissal of a popular Slytherin Prefect (especially since girls simply did _not_ pass him off as nothing more than another average person), and third…well, she didn't want to give them a third reason.

"Excellent, I say! Marvelous!" Professor Slughorn clapped loudly as he turned from one to the other. "Hera, for your first time, you held up very well especially with your opponent being as skilled as he was. Tom, good job as usual!"

The boy in question bowed slightly, throwing the teacher a gracious smile. Then he lifted his wand and said, "Finite Incantatum."

She quickly fell back in a relaxed position and nodded towards the teacher with a small smile of her own. Just as she lifted her eyes from the Professor, her opponent lifted his wand again, the same words uttered under his breath.

Before she could do anything, the second 'Finite Incantatum' hit her. It was usually a harmless spell but…

_Bloody hell, how had he known?_

There was a gasp from their audience as the appearance her classmates had become used to (at least those who noticed her and ignored) disappeared and other features quickly morphed into being.

Her thin lips grew, resembling plumper, healthier lips. The sparse things she had for eyebrows filled out with dark-brown hair in a perfect arch as her eyelashes lengthened from the nonexistent stubs they were before. However, the most pronounced change was the disappearance of the stringy, short blond hair, replaced by dark brown hair which fell down her back in a tumult of shiny curls.

"Merlin's beard…" Professor Slughorn gasped loudly, his hand covering his mouth as his eyes widened. "A glamour charm…the Headmaster will want to hear of this…"

There were murmurs through the crowd, whispers quickly passed from one student to another.

But all she could see was red as emotions long bottled, spilled forth like the escape from Pandora's Box. "You!" She yelled in cold fury, her wand out in a threatening gesture. "How did you even _know_?"

He smiled peacefully though his green eyes contradicted with darker emotions, "Doesn't matter now does it, Ronegn? You've deceived us for the last month or so and I felt it was my duty as a Prefect to reveal your true nature especially in times of war." He had replied in that silky, deep voice of his.

The crowd shifted uncomfortably. While Grindelwald's name was not mentioned, all knew it was he who the Slytherin Prefect was pointing to.

She narrowed her eyes, "I don't have to explain myself to anybody, least of all, _you_." She could not help but make the last word sound like dirt in her mouth.

The smiling countenance never left his face but she could see she had angered him by the darkening pools of emerald and the knuckle-white grip on his wand. He had to deal with enough people speaking to him in those tones- he would not want the same in a school he otherwise ruled.

"Miss Ronegn, I believe a visit to the Headmaster is in order." Professor Slughorn interjected in a grave voice as he clasped a hand on her shoulder.

Furious brown eyes clashed with cold, glittering green ones as she was led from the Potions classroom. Their locked gazes did not break until she had disappeared from the bend of the door, scandalized whispers following her throughout.

It didn't matter what they said. Nothing matched the horrific feeling she felt when the implications of what had happened finally hit her.

They were never supposed to meet but they _had_ and what's more, they had engaged in a duel even if it wasn't of her choosing. Anonymity was out of the question now because she knew that if they were anything like her classmates back _home_, then the news would soon make its way through the school. She gave it less than an hour.

The students knew what she _truly_ looked like. _He_ knew what she looked like. But _how_ he knew she was hiding it, was the question. Had he been paying _that_ close attention? And if he had, _why_?

"Leaping leprechauns." Professor Slughorn said and the statue of the gargoyle swung to the left, leaving the entrance wide open.

Her lips pressed together even tighter as she was led up the stairs.

_Strike three._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, etc.

**Warnings**: The madness that I have pulled from my mind and transfused into this work.

**Date**: September 12th, 2007

**Note: **It's coming along slowly. I started it today but I'm betting the end of this chapter alone probably won't be until three weeks from now.

* * *

_She had awoken to the sound of wind chimes ringing through the room. A slight breeze blew in from the open windows while outside, the sound of birds could be heard singing their morning tune. Sitting up in bed, her hand went instinctively to her neck and she noted with even more confusion that while there was a slight bump along where the glass had embedded itself, the pain no longer existed._

_Where was she? She distinctively remembered being petrified by the lieu of Death Eaters which incidentally meant her capture but this was hardly the treatment she'd been expecting for being a prisoner of war._

_Throwing the silk coverlets aside, she threw her legs over the bed and just as she was standing up, the door opened._

_Eyes widening and hands flying to her mouth, she whispered with trepidation, "Lucius Malfoy…"_

It was a long walk to the Headmaster's office and the climb up the five flights of ever-changing stairs was fairly grueling. Had she been in a more affable state of mind, she would have laughed at how normal this trip seemed. There was not a school year she had attended yet where she was not called into the Headmaster's office within at least the first three months of it and this only enabled the 'tradition' even more.

It was a grim situation and her face clearly showed it. She had long tucked her wand away having almost snapped it in half when she stalked from the classroom, a certain Prefect smirking after her.

She had not missed the undeniable challenge that he had issued in his eyes and was rightly incensed.

However she wasn't angry with him. Yes, he would make life extremely hard and yes, she would have to be extra careful.

But the blame lay on her shoulders and now she had to find someway to alleviate what she could of the entire situation. First things first…

* * *

Her brown eyes flickered between the three adults: Professor Slughorn, Armando Dippet, and Albus Dumbledore. For the last twenty minutes, she sat with a hand balanced on her leg while Slughorn relayed what he observed happening during the duel only pausing in between to answer questions asked by the other two men. 

She kept a mask of outward calmness as she awaited their verdict. On the inside, however, she experienced a multitude of feelings and none were as great as the disappointment and anger at having been revealed so thoroughly. Of course, she had to be found out sooner or later- it was inevitable. The glamour charm was one of the easiest magic to detect; it was so easy that all one had to do was stare hard enough and they could even see through the charm with the naked eye. Had it been any other wizard known for their prowess in the academic field, she would have expected it. As it was him, however, it only gave her reasons for even greater apathy towards him.

How he knew, she still had no idea but her anger had time to simmer during the walk up to the Headmaster's tower. What was done was done and there was nothing she could do to take it back except salvage whatever was left of the situation. Unfortunately, she knew that had it not been for her outburst, she would probably have a better advantage than what she possessed now.

She had to hope for the best.

Grindelwald in the Wizarding World, Hitler in the Muggle World; conflict existed on both sides of the sphere. There was no escape. Tensions hung thick in the air and those frightened by the glooming war were quick to point fingers.

Thankfully, the glamour charm was somewhat short of being considered anything remotely dark magic and certainly not as serious as what her fifth year DADA professor had pulled with the Polyjuice potion.

Whether it was to make their eyelashes longer, lips plumper, cheeks became rosier, or basically anything to attract the object of their affections, hundreds of wizards and witches employed the use of the glamour charm. Her appearance had been composed of features far from the normal standards beauty but to her credit, it was not something the professors would comment on, even if it were plainly obvious.

Now, she would have to be more alert, more ready for him because she knew she had unwittingly angered him.

_She narrowed her eyes, "I don't have to explain myself to anybody, least of all, you." She could not help but make the last word sound like dirt in her mouth._

_The smiling countenance never left his face but she could see she had angered him by the darkening pools of emerald and the knuckle-white grip on his wand. He had to deal with enough people speaking to him in those tones- he would not want the same in a school he otherwise ruled._

She had seen the look in his eyes during their brief tête-à-tête and it would be forever etched crudely in her memory. Likewise, he was likely to not forget the slight he had suffered at her words and as was his vindictive nature, would retaliate in due time.

But those worries were not for here and now.

As long as she stayed level-headed around these three, very observant men, their questions could and_ would_ be parried by a swift exchange of words on her part.

So immersed in her own thoughts, she almost didn't catch the question being directed at her by the Headmaster.

"Hera?" Headmaster Dippet prodded gently for the third time as the other two watched her, a bit of concern in their eyes, "Is there something you need to tell us?"

She was surprise at the ease of how quickly she could lie with even a smile to accompany it, "I'm afraid I did it for selfish reasons."

Dumbledore seemed particularly interested in her answer as he was the next to nudge her into continuing, "Yes?"

So she answered, plainly and simply why she had done what she did.

_Lying seemed to be about the only thing she could do right these days._

* * *

Her original appearance, while by no means a super beauty whatsoever, greatly outranked the appearance she had chosen to glamour herself with. She had not done this without purpose; it was the best disguise she could don that would garner the least amount of attention. 

_Because her hair, while fond of it as she was, it simply called for too much distinction. It was the reason she was the subject of harassment all throughout most of her child and teenage life and had been dealt with easily with in the past._

_It was not a luxury she could afford in the present._

So she had answered that she thought her disguise prettier than her own appearance. _Blond hair was a must_. It was certainly easier to maintain.

_She did not want to catch his attention but she most certainly had._

_How?_

She had been excused from the office after and as there was no real reason beyond that of superficiality (which was their reasoning) for keeping the disguise, it was more sensible (and generally agreed upon) to not use it as her general day-to-day appearance. It would be suspicious if she fought for it otherwise.

The glamour charm was marked under the list of 'harmless' spells by the Ministry as it was generally used to cloak certain aspects, _unappealing_ aspects, of one's physical appearance. On a more advanced level, it could actually be used to change the structure of the actual object it had to act upon. It should have fell under the 'transfigurations' category but since not many chose to advance especially with such a seemingly useless spell, it was generally used as a simple, feature enhancing charm. That was a characteristic which Dumbledore had chose to emphasize quite a bit during their discussion.

After the initial shock, Slughorn had chuckled and marveled at how well it had been cast, patting her on the back and extending another invitation to his 'small get-togethers.'

_Now there was something she could probably do without._

Dumbledore had not said another word and to the entire world, seemed just as pleased as Slughorn.

She knew better. He had played up the persona of a surprised and pleased Professor but from years of battle-honed instincts, she could tell that he was everything _but_ surprised. He _was_ pleased but not for the same reasons Slughorn was, though why, she could only fathom. She would wager that he had expected this to happen, which only caused even more questions on her part…

_How had the two people she had sought so desperately to hide herself from figure out that she had been hiding all along?_

"Why are fools and fanatics so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts?" The bronze statue questioned before her.

She responded promptly, "Because true wisdom acknowledges that there is always something to be learned."

The statue seemed to preen his feathers as though very pleased with the answer before swinging open to admit her entrance.

"Thank heavens!" A relieved voice said from behind a column.

She jerked to a stop, her hand flying to her wand instinctively.

A handsome looking boy with raven locks and cerulean blue eyes poked his head out from behind the column, grinning sheepishly. "I think we ruffled its feathers a bit – no pun intended – after our fifth answer, so it refused to open the door for us."

The statue chose this time to respond tartly, "This is the house for the cunning and the intelligent, not for the _sarcastic_ and the _stupid_!"

The boy rolled his eyes, stepping out from behind the column, two other boys following after. "Just because you didn't like the answers doesn't mean they lacked intelligence."

She had immediately turned her head when she saw who his companions were. Suddenly wanting to get away as soon as possible, she stepped through the doorway quickly while the statue and the boys stood preoccupied arguing with each other.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." She heard the statue bite back.

Flying through the common room and up the stone stairs that led to her dormitories, she chided herself for having been so self-absorbed. _How_ had she overlooked the fact that one of her house mates could have passed for the twin of a boy she had hated so much during her years in school previous to this? Of course, logic stated that it was silly to worry so much because they didn't know who she was but the _connections_ were there nonetheless. She wouldn't have survived if she didn't keep her mind open to all possibilities.

Shutting the door behind her, she fell to the floor with wide eyes and heavy breathing. For the sake of her nerves and something else much greater, she hoped fervently that she didn't come across them again.

_What a web we weave when we at first, learn to deceive._

* * *

After the debacle in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class (of which Slughorn was the temporary professor for since the original was still recovering from a nasty hex he sustained on his trip to Egypt), she had become more aware of the students in her class. As she had suspected, the incident quickly carved its way through the student body and since it was early in the school year, there was nothing else more interesting to draw their attentions away from the newest 'on-dit.' Therefore, she found herself the object of many whispers and covert looks. 

She also realized that she had not been as observant before the _reveal_. Now, she knew that she must have been lacking any common sense when she failed to noticed certain, _major_ things that were occurring around her.

Invisible. That was what she'd been to them and them to her.

_Not only had he revealed her to the entire world, but indirectly, revealed the world to her._

It was not something meant to be praise-worthy.

How had she missed the characteristic long, blond hair and poignant grey-eyes of a certain classmate which so mirrored a boy who was very much a despised acquaintance? How many classes were they in together and why only now, did she seem to notice?

Much as she hated to admit, she knew that it had something to do with her world suddenly revolving around a pair of chilling green eyes.

_That had to change. There was need for much improvement._

She did not miss the several looks the blond-haired boy had thrown at her during class and thankfully, they couldn't have been categorized as anything more than a passing glance. Unfortunately, even a single passing glance from the wrong person raised her hackles these days.

Finally, during Quiet Period while composing their latest charms essay and all too encompassed with the final paragraph of her essay, she did not notice that someone had sat down until it nudged her arm, pushing her hand and quill across the otherwise pristine page.

"Sorry." Came the none-too-quiet whisper of the same blue-eyed, black haired boy she had only chance to meet once.

She cast a slightly miffed glance at him before murmuring her quiet acceptance. Her quill quickly picked up the same pace, eager as she was to finish their assignment.

A finger reached up and tugged at a stray curl and her quill immediately halted, blotting on the parchment as she jerked towards him and as a consequence, yanked the strand out of his hand.

He flashed another grin and she was reminded all too clearly of another painful memory of a shocked and pained face of a man toppling backwards.

_There was a horrified scream and the flash of one who moved far too fast to be considered totally human only to appear behind the boy who had emitted the scream. A struggle ensued and while the boy was held back from jumping beyond the arch himself, the screams did not stop._

_The screams would never stop. _

_Remus' half-wolf, half-human howl while Dolohov tortured him during his transformation, Kingsley's guttural scream as Rodolphus Lestrange's dark curse hit him in the back, causing his skin to bubble and rot off in just a few seconds, the shrieks and painful sobbing of an almost insane-Tonk's as she broke her fingernails on the bark of a tree she was clutching while Bellatrix tortured her by flogging with a transfigured wand…_

She winced and a hand reached up to rub the bridge of her forehead as the blot on the parchment slowly disappeared, leaving behind only neat, scripted handwriting.

The amused boy did not notice but his grin did drop into something resembling that of concern as he reached for her shoulder, mouth open to say something until she jerked away, hand practically kneading at her temple. "I'm sorry, I didn't think I yanked so hard."

"What is it?" She bit out more harshly than she generally would have under…_normal circumstances_.

"That is…" he seemed flustered and brought his hand back, resting it on the table, "I never got to properly thank you at the entrance. Before any of us noticed, you were gone."

The ringing in her ears halted immediately as she turned to him, her eyes staring right into his. He was reminded slightly of autumn before her voice brought him back to the stuffy classroom with nothing but the scratching of quills upon parchment to remind him of where they were.

"It's fine." She clipped in such a frosty voice that autumn instantly changed into a winter so severe, he felt shivering despite the stifling heat in the room.

"Oh." He frowned, not used to receiving such a disobliging address. Just as he opened his mouth to say something in response, the air next to him shifted as a man with his blond hair pulled back by a simple velvet ribbon sat down and tapped him on the shoulder.

The girl turned back to her parchment and picked up her quill faster than was the norm, scribbling her final words at the bottom of the parchment.

The blue-eyed boy turned to meet a pair of grey-eyes staring at him expectantly and accompanied, as was characteristic, the arched brow.

"Are you finished with your essay?" The blond-haired boy drawled with a bored air.

He nodded instead of answering, suddenly all-too aware of some glares they were receiving from the students who had been bothered by the sudden changed in noise level.

"Then could we possibly proceed with luncheon? I find that being able to eat without having to sit through Crabbe and Goyle's less than austere table manners may do wonders for my digestion." He shrugged nonchalantly as he leaned towards his ear, "Besides, the Yule Ball is still _three months away_, could you possibly wait before you find another warm body to help you through that night?"

There was a bit of shuffling by his side but he was too annoyed to notice as he closed his blue eyes and grimaced, thankful that the words could not be heard by anyone but himself. His cheeks were slightly flushed at his friend's suggestive tone as he harshly responded, "You think I'm_ flirting_?" He cast a surreptitious glance at the students around them, "I'm _not_ Alphard!"

The blond smirked, his immaculate eyebrow arching once more as he pulled back, his own voice so low, the black-haired youth had to strain to listen, "_Fine_, play it that way," He held up five slender fingers and began ticking off each digit, "Harriet Tremaine, Felicity Bellwood, Tess Thornhill-,"

The black-haired youth's face flared up as he glared at the blond before interjecting, "Let's save this for a later debate. As I said before, I was not flirting. I was merely giving my thanks to the girl who helped us get into the common room that night."

A confused look was thrown at him as grey-eyes perused the area behind him, "Who are you talking about?"

"What do you mean who am I talking about? She's right-," He blinked several times, finally noticing the empty area next to him, "-here." Sighing, he turned back to his friend and grumbled, "Never mind. She ran off again." He glanced around the room once more, hoping to catch another glance of the elusive curly-haired witch but the results were less than favorable. Finally, he stood up and in a dry voice that was slightly mocking, said, "Let's see what we can do about that petulant stomach of yours, yeah?"

The blond-haired boy rolled his grey eyes before standing up himself, shifting his school bag onto the other shoulder, "Finally."

* * *

She fingered the tomes almost lovingly as the faint glow of enchanted lights floated around her, illuminating the titles and the pathway of the aisle. The dust that had settled on some of the sleeping books belied how long they had not been in use so with a bit of daredevil in her, she plucked a particularly plain book from the shelf, dust flying as she brought it down to her eye level, fingers tracing the golden letters. 

She mused a bit upon on the title before a shock ran up her fingers and she dropped the book to the ground, hands rubbing together to help alleviate some of the sting. She stared confused at the book before a chuckle from behind made her conscious of her now-broken solitude. She turned her head around and was chagrined to find that it was the other black-haired youth that had accompanied the trio that night in front of the Ravenclaw entrance.

She had escaped to the library originally because of them, _not so she could come across the final member of their entourage_. She turned back and bent down to retrieve the book, yelping again when it shocked her once more. Instead of dropping it this time, she bounced it on her hands before shoving it unceremoniously back into the shelf, quickly pulling her swollen red fingers away.

He brushed past her, a faint scent of soap and shampoo filling her nostrils as he pulled his wand out and waved it, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Slightly affronted at having been shown what should have been _her_ solution, she quickly decided to leave, having to move around him towards where the exit stood.

"Alphard Black." His baritone voice, somewhat hesitant, called out, halting her steps slightly.

"_Who used to be here?" She asked, pointing to a burnt mark on the tapestry._

_Blue eyes lit up and his rough features transformed into that of a fond look. She was reminded of why there was a good reason the Blacks were not only known for their family name but also for their good looks that even an incarceration in Azkaban could not take away from him._

"_Alphard Black, the only person I respected in the Black family," He sighed, "He was the only one who didn't seem to buy into the whole pureblood, muggle-born business and the only one who was proud when I got sorted into a house other than Slytherin."_

"_Oh." She simply said, abashed that she had most likely brought up a seemingly sensitive issue. Folding her hands behind her back, she turned her head back and studied the large family tapestry quietly as her companion became lost to the memories of time. _

"What's your name?" He finally asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

She had turned her head slightly and out of the corner of her eye, saw the handsome boy standing still as the book floated in front of him, small lights dancing as though to a tune that only they could hear. A small smile appeared on her face as she turned back around, a quiet answer escaping her lips, "Hera." Then she picked up her pace once more, eager to take the last few steps leading to the door.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Hera!" He said with a grin, halting the retreating figure once more.

The head nodded once before, curls bouncing once. Then a hand reached out to push the door open and she disappeared into the bustling hallways of a school still in session.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, etc.

**Warnings**: The madness that I have pulled from my mind and transfused into this work.

**Date**: November 29th, 2007

**Note: **I finished this far faster than I thought I would. Had to rewrite a couple parts several times and delete some unnecessary scenes but here it is. Darn it, it's finals week too and I really should be concentrating on that. Bah. At least you'll like to know that I've already begun the next chapter to this story. Once again, thanks to the lovely Nicole for beta-ing this! I don't know where I would be without you, poor English that I possess. LOL.

**xxxxx**

It was strange that despite being in the most fortified castle on the continent, she really did not feel very safe most of the time. War had made her paranoid and although escaping the one she played a particular role in, she landed right in another one that was just beginning to brew.

_But that was the least of her problems._

In her room, the bed covers did little to assuage her fears and every time she woke, her wand was already in her hand and held out before her at the unknown assailant.

However, there _never _was an assailant. Just the figures in her nightmares receding into the abyss of her unconscious while she stared into the pitch dark as her racing heart slowly calmed. Breath hitched and sweat dripped down her forehead, she would try to go back to sleep (and she eventually would) while her wand was always kept tightly gripped in her hand.

Strangely enough, the most peace she felt was when she was hurrying along various students as they rushed to reach their next class before it started. Amongst the robed students, not much stood out except for the color of their ties and the singular patch above their left breast proclaiming their House. Otherwise, bushy-haired or not, she blended in and she was virtually unseen.

Reminiscence generally brought a deep ache to her heart. Gone were the days of skiing in the Alps with her parents, waking up to Ron's snores just the room next to hers, she and Ginny pouring over the latest reports in Witch Weekly…All spoiled by the metallic tang of blood, salty tears, and an unbearable agony over the deaths of her classmates, consequently her friends. It acted like a fog in her mind, clouding over all the good that left her mind sane. She was aware that with each passing day, her feelings became even more and more unhinged. Could she even remember who she was anymore?

No matter how hard she tried, the bloodshed she witnessed would not just go away. Too many times she cast the spell marked by her hateful feelings, too many times she watched eyes glow green, grow lifeless. It was meant to protect but…

At barely seventeen years of age, she was already a soldier. Much like Lady Macbeth in the tragic play, the blood would never wash off no matter how hard she scrubbed.

That didn't stop her from _trying_ to forget. Among these students, even if it was but a minute or so as she hurried to her next class, she could_ almost_ forget. That was something at least.

The chaos of her mind readily accepted whatever peace she could get even if it was as menial as walking down the halls of Hogwarts.

**xxxxx**

She stared up into the canopy of her bed, hands behind her head, curtains pulled back as the girls bustled in and out of the doors, practically half dressed. The air pollution in the dorm room from various hair potions had been wretched before someone had finally flung the windows open, alleviating some of the nauseating fumes. As ribbons, jewelry, and powder lay strewn all about the room, she was reminded slightly of her fourth year experience where her roommates fussed over themselves and one another in the excitement of their first ball.

The chill that followed the autumn wind blew in from the open-windows, occasionally sending a shiver or two down the scantily clad girls hurrying about. She turned her head to the far left of the room where the clock hung, hand pointed at the quote: '_Almost time to leave_!'

"Wait…you're not going?" One of her roommates asked, turning around in her stool as the charmed mirror tutted at the other girls crowding its reflective surface.

"More ribbons!" It harrumphed at the brunette she knew to be named Leonore.

She sat up and shook her head, curls rioting against the ponytail she had drawn it back in, "I'm afraid not."

"Oh, but you must! It's the first ball of the year!"

Another one of the girls wrestling with her hair had turned and nudged the first girl on the shoulder, "Leave it, Deirdre. Even if she wanted to, there's no time for her to get ready now."

"Oh, Christine, _everyone _goes to the first ball. Other than the _All Hallow's Eve_ costume party and the _Yule Masquerade_, this is a fairly important event." Deirdre chided right back as she waved her wand, adding a few glowing lights interwoven into her hair.

_Nope. Not everyone._ She smiled faintly to herself while Christine rolled her eyes before turning back to their roommate.

Deidre narrowed her eyes at Christine in the mirror and huffed, "I saw that!"

One curl tickled her nose as she lay back, and she drowned out the sounds of their bickering voices, closing her eyes as vague memories surfaced of chiffon dresses, dashing robes, and an enchanted orchestra playing the light staccatos of a minuet, then moving to the soft, lilting strings of a waltz.

**xxxxx**

Curled up on one side, the curly-haired witch faded off into a well-deserved slumber while downstairs in the Great Hall, students quickly made their way into the brightly decorated area. There were round tables all about with half the area cleared out where some students could be seen already having taken to the dance floor. Most stood around chattering with each other while others, mostly boys, had gone to the table where once seated, platters of food were charmed to immediately appear.

Wand safely tucked away in the sleeve of his dress robe and eyes surveying the glittering scene, he slowly made his way through the throng of excited students, his date stopping once in a while to chatter about (inane) topics with her many various girlfriends.

Despite the bland conversation she was so eager to partake in, he allowed his gaze to wander appreciatively over the silk-clad brunette, especially on the swell of her breast as she tittered on. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, smirking when she shuddered deliciously against him before she threw a special smile of her own. The conversation stalled and he quickly moved her along, eyes growing cold again as they glanced over the scene.

A glass of pumpkin juice was placed in his hand by his date and he immediately took a sip, entirely bored as his date struck up what had to be the seventh in a series of asinine conversations involving insubstantial compliments and kisses upon the both cheeks. Disengaging himself with another whisper in her ear, he caught the knowing glance that she threw him while her friend slapped her on the shoulder with a giggled, "For shame, you hussy!"

He drained the rest of his pumpkin juice, placing the empty cup somewhere before moving slowly into the crowd, eyes still searching the scene. Out of nowhere, a hand clamped down on his shoulder and he immediately tensed. While his first instinct was to throw the hand and break it clean off, he simply gripped his wand and peered over his shoulder. Catching the arrogant grin of a familiar amber-eyed sixth year, he quickly relaxed and threw a smile at the jovial boy.

"Riddle! Where's the lovely Leonore Farleigh for this evening? Don't tell me you've already become bored of her!"

"The night is still young." Tom responded, shrugging nonchalantly and earning a boisterous chuckle from his roommate as the voluptuous blonde on his arm glanced up at him from beneath hooded eyes. In turn, he saluted slightly with his drink, pleased when the apples of her cheeks flooded with a pinkish tint. Incidentally, her date had chosen that exact moment to turn his head towards the door, missing the entire exchange.

"Malfoy! Black and Black!" The boy shouted, his amber-eyes practically glowing as he waved energetically to the trio that had just entered the ball room.

The girl on his arm had winced before she turned and scolded, "Not so loud, Caspar!" She then threw the Slytherin Prefect another hooded look complete with a nibble on her bottom lip and Tom simply arched his eyebrow, snatching another drink from one of the floating trays.

"Hello Riddle, hello, Crouch," The refined voice of the tall, black-haired boy greeted as the two other boys followed.

"Alphard," Riddle greeted, his eyes glinting at the stiffness of the tall boy.

_There could only be one._

Alphard stepped aside, revealing the stoic heir to the Malfoy riches and a seemingly harried second brother of the Black's main family. Abraxas politely declined a drink offered by a group of the girls that had ambled to the table, tugging at his cufflinks. The black-haired boy to his side gave no attention to the greetings paid to him as he turned his head several times, watching the throng of people entering through the door.

Tom offered a stiff smile out of courtesy and Abraxas nodded in return with a polite one of his own. Theirs was not a close relationship.

"I heard she wasn't coming." Abraxas finally said to Cygnus as he sat down at a nearby table. A plate of food appeared before him and went unnoticed, amused as he was by the growing color in his friend's cheeks.

Just as Cygnus was about to retort, Caspar jumped in with his own commentary, "Who is 'she?'" He asked, looking towards Tom as though he had the answers.

The Prefect shrugged, "I've not a single clue. Perhaps his date?"

_The rakehell ways of the Black family boys were not unheard of_.

Irritated at the lack of attention she was receiving, the blonde simply rolled her eyes and stalked away to a nearby group of girls. He followed her swaying hips, scratching at a cheek as he caught the several suggestive looks from the group before they exploded into a series of giggles. He leaned against the wall and turned back to the boys, watching with an amused eye as Cygnus' complexion grew brighter by the minute at the teasing of his friends.

"No, he didn't bring a date. He's looking for that-,"

"I'm not looking for her." Cygnus immediately interjected in a deathly dry tone. Tom was forced to muffle his snicker. "I was merely taking in the scene."

While Alphard laughed out loud and Abraxas rolled his eyes in a teasing manner, Caspar grinned before throwing an wild arm around the frowning Cygnus, his glass of pumpkin juice sloshing a bit. "I think I heard about this!"

"No you didn't." Came the same dry tones, this time slightly exasperated.

"Yes, yes I did!" Caspar pushed as he winked at the slightly befuddled Prefect, Alphard and Abraxas having sat down and taken advantage of the meal laid out before them.

"This is ridi-," Cygnus started as though trying to halt what was to come next out of his friend's mouth.

Caspar would not allow him to finish as he immediately cut in, "I think e_veryone_ saw you trying to make friendly with that _new girl_ during fifth period charms last week and she didn't take very well, _if at all_. What is wrong, my boy!?" With this, he thumped Cygnus on the chest, earning a hacked cough and a deathly glare. Ignoring it, the only Crouch heir went on, "You must be losing your touch! No matter, more for the rest of us I say!"

A rumble of laughter was heard and even Tom was inclined to chuckle as Cygnus flung Caspar's hand from his shoulders. Indignant, Cygnus had just opened his mouth to respond before a two large bodies ambled by, startling him as they threw themselves into two seats, unsetting the table and earning an annoyed "Hey!" from Alphard.

"Food!" One yelled in an overjoyed tone.

"Duncan, Nicholas, slow down before either of you chaps choke!" Caspar grumbled in frustration while Abraxas stared at the two in disgust before pushing his own meal away.

Having had enough small talk to last him for the entire night, Tom closed his eyes and lazily pushed himself from the wall. He wondered if he could convince Leonore to _retire early_ for the night. He wasn't even sure why he had come to such a bland affair, but now that he had, he wasn't about to leave without getting what he wanted from the evening.

"Leaving so soon?" Caspar yelled just as he had moved towards the crowd.

Tom grinned, "I came here for one reason and one reason only. I'll see you later, gents." He turned back around, having spotted the familiar silk robed figure of his date. With a wave over his shoulder, he slowly made his way towards the group of people she surrounded herself with, ignoring the lewd comments Caspar was always in want of shouting across the room.

"You sly dog!" Nicholas garbled after him through a mouthful of food, earning another disgusted glare from Abraxas and a chortle from Caspar.

**xxxxx**

A pair of thickly-lashed green eyes cast a bored glance at the sleeping girl draped across his chest before he slowly detached himself from her entangled limbs with the grace of a feline and crawled out of bed, naked as the day he was born. The clothing that lay haphazardly strewn around the closed off area gave hint as to what their prior indiscretions had been but a few hours ago. Had it been him three years ago, he would have winced particularly at a pair of perfectly tailored dress trousers now lying in a crumpled state just at the foot of the bed. Snatching it and shoving one foot into the leg, he hurriedly dressed himself, only slowing when the Ravenclaw turned over in her bed with a small murmur. He waited until her breath stilled once more, signifying that she was still in the throes of the Sandman.

A cold smile crossed his features before he leaned down and pressed a mockery of a caring kiss against the girl's cheek. _It was neither loving nor sentimental._

His life had never been an easy path and as was such, neither was his beginning at Hogwarts. Sorted into a house where degradation came just because his mother made a poor choice of her paramour, he was hard pressed not to do to them what he had done to the children that angered him at the orphanage. In all honestly, it had probably been his lack of father rather than who his father was that made them treat him as though he wasn't any better than the dirt beneath their feet. Tradition reigned supreme in the Muggle World and even more so in the Wizarding World; those who bore a child out of wedlock were looked down upon.

It wasn't his fault the bloke deserved to be sent to Azkaban himself. _He _didn't get to choose who had donated the sperm that allowed his existence.

To their credit, it had gotten better through the years, mainly due to some intervention at the request of their teachers but there was still a lingering sense of prejudice.

_As long as they didn't act on it, it was fine to feel the way they did, wasn't it?_

This was his _home_. He had known he was special at a young age and he would die before ever letting a few snot-nosed kids, who'd never had a hard day's work in their life, tell him otherwise.

_If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to see it, did it really happen?_

He learned very quickly that what the professors did not see, they could not fault him for. As such, he calculated and maneuvered his way into their good standings (except for that one doddering, old fool of a transfigurations professor) and made it such that by his third year, nobody even remembered he was a half-blood especially the inbred gits in his house.

_Adaptation was necessary for survival and now and those sodding gits were eating right out of his hands._

He studied, observed, and waited until one day, he finally came across the _one thing_ that he knew would prove his status and push him far beyond that of what even the Malfoy name and Black name could not command. It would allow him to accomplish what he knew he could do all along…

_He was the heir of Slytherin and it was time he took his rightful place worthy of the name._

He brushed a finger across the green and gold ring that lay nestled between his knuckles. The shocked faces and the jibing looks that quickly turned into that of reverence quickly flooded the student body of Hogwarts upon sight of the priceless heirloom. No longer was he a half-breed and a bastard child to boot. Now, he was the heir of Slytherin, one of the greatest, if not _the greatest _name in Wizarding History.

_He was nothing like them. He was _better

Shrugging on his robe, he grabbed his wand and then moved to slowly peek out from behind the curtains. Taking a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he surveyed the dorm room before padding slowly across the floorboard separating the two beds. With a softly whispered incantation under his breath, a dim light appeared at the end of his wand, illuminating the navy blue curtains that surrounded his _quest's _bed.

Though the room was deathly silent save for the evened breathing of its four owners and him, he pressed his ear against the velvety fabric as a safety precaution of sorts. When satisfied, he snuck a hand to pull back the folds of the velvet cloth before slipping underneath them. Once inside, his left hand quickly rose to cup the glowing ball at the end of his wand, allowing it to illuminate the area just enough for him to make out the vague shapes occupying the bed space.

He found himself standing next to the spacious double twin for several minutes, just perusing the delicate features of the mysterious Hera Ronegn. Having never taken such prerogative before, he was somewhat nervous and slightly short of breath as to his next task at hand. A mantra repeated continuously in his head:

_It was necessary_.

Still rearing from the fateful experience only a year ago, he was wary of any suspicious activity involving the school, especially that of one irritating Transfiguration professor. While he had done everything to cover up his involvement with the bespectacled girl in the girl's bathroom, he knew he had not escaped everyone's suspicion. Such as it was, a sudden appearance of a transfer student at a school that rarely (if ever) received students who were not in their first year had made the beginning of the sixth year at Hogwarts a rather tense affair. He was not happy with the disruption.

While she had seemed harmless at first, her arrival was simply far too coincidental for his liking. Not to mention, though he had not picked up her presence for the first few weeks, he had eventually taken notice of a pair of eyes digging into his back. When he discovered who it was that had been watching him, he returned the favor tenfold. He tried seeking information out about her but it had only resulted in wasted energy and a severe headache. Nobody seemed to know who she was and where she came from. She had so easily slipped through people's notice.

But the emotions that lay behind those whiskey-colored eyes belied a completely different affair. She was hiding something large and he would wager it had something to do with the occurring war in the Wizarding World.

So when he had broken through her glamour charm, he did not care for the pat on the back or the series of congratulations recognizing his efforts. Rather, he simply wanted to know more about the girl who had taken such pains to hide her appearance and why she seemed to shrink back from any social interaction. He was surrounded by hundreds of girls who did many things to be noticed. Ironically enough, it was the one girl who did not want to be noticed that caught his attention.

But…nothing. She had been released with a mild scold and nobody seemed the wiser.

_He_ knew, though.

Thus, he had been pushed to conclude that it had probably been at the behest of the annoying old codger Dumbledore that she had been let off without even being tested by Veritaserum. (That was the least _he_ would've done. How could they blame him, with the threat of Grindelwald looming over their heads?) He had originally surmised her to be an agent of Dumbledore's but even that seemed rather paranoiac on his part. Still, he was never one to leave loose ends hanging.

It had seemed the professor finally found someone to do his bidding. It had _seemed_. After a week's worth of observations on his part, he found the girl to be as chilly to the professor as she seemed everyone else and while he knew there was a chance she could simply be acting…

He could not be entirely sure. Nobody could be that good of an actor, twenty-four seven. Everybody had to drop their guard sometime and he had not seen anything out of order beyond that of the casting of an advanced glamour charm and the overly private nature.

It seemed silly that he was making such a big case out of someone using the silly charm and even more so because she was female. They were known to abuse the charm many times simply for their own self-interest. Such were the thoughts that flooded his mind.

_He held no high regard for their gender. Sure, they provided him comfort many a nights but just like every one of the other lemmings, they were to be used and discarded. _

_Leonore was a perfect example. The women's movement was non-existent in their world and while they thought they were using the men just as much as the men were using them with some rot about a 'sexual revolution,' he knew better._

Not only that, but she also _felt_ suspicious. Along with the gift of _parseltongue_, another gift his _beloved_ mother had chosen to endow him with, _one seemingly more useless_, was the ability to _feel_ what others felt.

Around her, he felt a multitude of feelings and none of which were pleasant, nor were they normal for the average student. Skittish like a colt, she seemed ready to battle with anybody that would dare threaten her own livelihood. It was hardly the characteristic of just any student going to school and that was what she was her for, _wasn't it_?

It was only through a series of his own observations that he was able to deduce there lay another veneer underneath the gray-tinted skin and the unfashionable, straggly, blonde hair. His confirmation came when the silent challenge she sent him at Slughorn's party was quickly covered up as she tried her very hardest to ignore him that evening. He had not done anything to the girl but had apparently disobliged her in someway. Not one to back down, he seized his chance during the classroom duel and had hit the unknowing student with the simple spell. As predicted, he proved himself correct when the blonde hair fell away to reveal a body of shiny curls. _That had simply been the first stage._

He should have expected her anger but was nonetheless, pleasantly surprised. Unfortunately, it only served to confuse him even more as to why the student seemed so defensive. She was not a puppet of Dumbledore's, he was fairly sure of that, so why did she remain so guarded?

Secrets, other than his own, did _not_ exist in this school- he made sure of that. He was aware of anything and everything that went on, from the color of girl's knickers to the bloodlines of each pureblood, half-blood, and muggle-born wizard and witch. This new transfer, as perplexed with her as he was, was an enigma to be solved. Wrapped up in her own world and apparently as harmless as a newborn babe, she had fooled everyone _but him_.

He had a fair sense she could (nay, _would_) be fairly dangerous if incensed.

It was the reason he had just waved his wand to cast a deep-sleeping charm upon the already slumbering girl; he was unwilling to take any chances of her waking up.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he gently brushed up a stray curl from her face, his thumb trailing across her forehead. Then with a whispered '_Legilimens_' he felt the familiar pull of her mind and released himself to the magic.

Instead of the flood of images as he was used to getting, he felt a painful jolt before a nauseating jerk threw him back into consciousness. A loud gasp sounded from the bed and then a colorful oath. Before he knew it, her wand was stuck so deep in his jugular; it threatened to break the sensitive skin that covered his racing pulse. His arms were already up in clemency as if to sooth the tense girl but he could not help the suspicion that flooded his eyes and showed on every crevice of his face.

_She was becoming more and more interesting by the minute. The implications of what had just happened in the last thirty seconds hit him like a 'Reducto' spell; leaving him slightly winded as his mind quickly went into overdrive assessing every part of the situation._

She seemed fairly awake now and if he had not cast the deep-sleep charm himself, he would have thought her awake the entire time.

_But that was not possible. Those were not the eyes of a student; the reflexes being far too fast for someone her age without the proper training. One look into those whiskey-colored eyes and he knew. _

_She was a soldier, trained to kill without any compunction whatsoever._

Then her cold voice clipped at him, cutting through his internal monologue and making him shiver despite the fact that _he was usually the one to cause such an effect on others_.

"Move and you'll _regret_ it."

He knew that it was not an idle threat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Cygnus Black, Alphard Black, Abraxas Malfoy, etc.

**Warnings**: Time turner meaning clichés all about. Mweheh.

**Date**: December 18th, 2007

**Note: **My never-ending gratitude to my lovely beta, Nicole. Also, thanks to all you lovelies who reviewed, especially to alittlelonely, Haydees, Suni-Dlight, Hotkat144, Ivory Black, hpfanf, and puttykat13 for taking the leave a comment! Finally, thanks to one of the greatest gals- Nerys, because she always leaves long reviews and because I promised her that if she updated Bittersweet before Christmas, I would update KTIE. Happy Holidays everyone!

**xxxxx**

_The hallway was vast, dark, and undeniably forbidding. Clad in a flimsy shirt and thin trousers, she felt nearly naked walking cautiously behind the billowing cloak of the head Malfoy in the drafty area._

_Wandless, confused, and frightened, she rubbed at the goosebumps littered her arm and cast a glance at her gothic surroundings. _

_Portraits lined the hallway walls divided by elegant lamps lit with a simple 'lumos.' Those that were not asleep cast at her a look of disregard; some even sniffed before disappearing from the painting altogether. _

_All of the sudden, the figure in front of her stopped, catching her attention just in time to keep her from colliding with his tall frame. He knocked twice on the elegant oak door before reaching down with a gloved hand and turning the knob._

_At once, the hallway was flooded with a warm, comforting light and she found herself wincing as her eyes grew accustomed to the sudden change in brightness. _

_She was taken by the arm and hustled into the room before the large door closed behind her with a quiet click, the deep, rumbling tones of her classmate greeting her._

"_Hello, Granger, nice of you to finally join us."_

She winced, nearly dropping a suspiciously unmarked canister containing some brown root or another as the pain of resurfacing memories pricked at her temple and then slowly subsided. Leaving behind a dull ache, a hand gently rubbed the thin skin of her forehead as the can was returned to the shelf in a rather clumsy manner. Clearing her blurry vision, she squinted at the many rows of potions items neatly separated in their own glass jars. Some had labels and others didn't, which she surmised were the ones bought by others skilled enough to recognize certain ingredients upon sight.

Her search would have probably been easier if they had alphabetized the jars that crowded the shelves. Also, the many students who were allowed to come out for the first Hogsmeade visit of the year crowded the store searching for their own products. Periodically, the bell at the storefront would ring twice, welcoming another customer with its cheerful tones.

Her eyes moved to the top of the next shelf, reading each label with a certain care before it landed just a few seconds later on one marked, 'Moonstone.' Tucking her unruly hair behind one ear, she pressed her frame to the shelves and stretched upwards to reach the jar. Her fingers had just barely grazed it before a long arm from behind reached up and plucked the large jar from her.

Eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, lips pursed, and a scathing remark on the tip of her tongue, she swirled around and was ready to reprimand the one responsible for the intrusion. Upon sight of the smirking Slytherin Prefect innocuously reading the label of the jar, she noted with chagrin that she had already taken a step back from his close proximity.

_What in Circe's name was he doing here?_ _Hadn't she gotten rid of him already? _

"Moonstone…" He murmured before casting his green eyes upon her, "What use do you have for a Draught of the Living Dead potion?"

She forced a smile upon her face and hoped that it seemed sincere, "Homework." Never mind that the assignment was months away.

"Ah," He simply said before handing the jar back to her with an indescribable look in his eyes.

She murmured her thanks and turned away from those probing orbs, busying herself with the job of tugging at the tightly sealed jar.

A chuckle was heard before she found herself losing the jar for the second time in but a few minutes. She couldn't help but feel aggravated as the tall boy plucked the lid off with surprising ease and pointed the open top at her. She reached in hesitantly, digging around and trying to pluck the one she wanted. Once a stone was in her grasp, she pulled her hand out and tucked it inside a brown paper bag while he retracted the jar and replaced the lid on it.

She faced him with a grim expression. Wasn't it enough he was the reason for her sanity teetering on the very edge of oblivion?

_She wanted to scream out her farce. That she couldn't risk being anything other than polite because he was just far too observant for his own good! Anything else and she would risk another dangerous situation like the one she'd woken up to just a few days ago._

She had done so well staying hidden. What had gone so wrong that now, he was paying his respects like the very gentleman she knew him _not to be_? Beneath those thick lashes, she could make out the faint stirrings of need for power and control that would later dominate him in life. It was the reason he ostensibly would not leave her along.

In the library where she was often found hiding in, he'd turn up at the oddest hours and join her at the otherwise single-occupant table. In the hallways, he made a point to make his greetings. She even had the misfortune of being caught one night during his patrol and even though he had not delved out the normal punishment, she did not miss the calculating glint in those green eyes.

_It was a type of madness that she had escaped only to fall right on the beginning path of it._

Now, standing in front of him, she had absolutely no idea what her next action would be. Was she to stay and wait for him or beg off in lieu of other matters? Her preference was of course, for the latter but she knew with a sinking feeling that it would do no good and probably set him off.

Now was the time to be careful in all matters. She could not jeopardize her position anymore than she already had and unfortunately, playing a pleasant, affable student was the best and_ only _option left.

_It would not do if she were to break down into waterworks now._ Her steely reserve back, she decided to stand her ground as the tall boy relocated the jar back to its original position.

Clapping his hands together to remove any dust he had picked up while handling the jar, he turned to her with a congenial smile.

_Hadn't the Big Bag Wolf lulled Little Red Riding Hood into some semblance of security before he struck? _

As for Tom, he was painfully aware of all the turbulent reactions she felt in his company. Very often she was enshrouded in pain accompanied by bursts of overwhelming sadness and an intensity of paranoia. It had made her more observant and alert, causing a slight damper to his plans having already been caught staring several times. He praised her for her logic, as it kept her from confronting him- after all, what answer could she possibly expect had she asked him? More often than not, these feelings were greatly aggravated whenever he made his presence known.

Hehadbeen _very_ persistent for the last week since her discovery of him in her quarters. He hadn't been grateful for her complacent reaction; if anything, it only added to his suspicions about her character. She had been lenient but far too much so, making him question again what her benefits were by suddenly shifting from one end of the spectrum (her cold dismissal of him) to the other (easy acceptance).

Hardly one to give up and knowing it was ridiculous not to take advantage of her forced (yes, forced) affability, he simply made sure to encounter her at every advantage he had.

It had not made Leonore happy and he had also caught the eldest Black staring at him with something akin to distrust in those deep pools of blue.

Leonore's reaction was of course, well expected. After all, while he had not expected nothing more than a short dalliance, she had already placed her heart on becoming the next long-term arm eye candy of the popular Slytherin Prefect. To put it frankly, his sudden interest in a girl who was only passably pretty rankled her pride, setting off a competitive side that was often seen by her enemies. As she was of use to him in the future, he could not yet discard her. Thankfully, she was a simple creature and easy to please. A few trinkets and a pretty word here and there, she would be offering her services once more.

Alphard Black, on the other hand…His hands closed into a tight fist unknown by the Ravenclaw girl standing before him. Frankly, it wasn't any business of his anyways if Tom fancied chatting it up the mysterious Ravenclaw, now was there?

Tucking his hands behind his back, Tom bowed in a polite manner before speaking in the same dulcet tones that had an effect equal to that of making the Hogwarts girls weak at the knees. It had no such effect on the current girl before him, however, "I want to apologize again for-,"

She interjected with a short chuckle, "No worries, we already decided that I had overreacted, remember?"

"I remember a certain pardon on your part, yes. It was to my credit and luck you were not one of those simpering misses with a flair for screaming at finding an unwanted intruder in their quarters. Otherwise, I probably would not be here conversing with you and instead, cleaning the fifty years of dust off the awards in the trophy room."

She gave another chuckle at this.

He nodded as they made their way to the counter, "But I would not say you had overreacted. Though it was quite daunting to have that wand of yours pointed at a particularly sensitive spot in my neck but one can hardly fault you, having found a stranger standing above you at such a deplorable hour."

A few coins were filched from her change purse to pay for her purchases, "It is fine. If I had lost a precious heirloom, I also would have done all I could to recover it. Simply put, there's no need to cry over spilt milk."

"However, I am uncomfortable with just that," He said with a disconcerting finality.

Turning around, she regarded him with questioning eyes as they made their way out the door, "I'm afraid I don't understand?"

He murmured a brief greeting to a group of students off to the side of the store and then matched her stride for stride as she made her way to the next shop, "I've done you a great injustice, Hera, if I may at least call you that. Let me treat you to a luncheon?"

She shook her head, "I ate a large fare at breakfast."

"Then perhaps a bag of your favorite chocolates from Honeyduke's?"

She shook her head again, "I'm afraid that I don't really like sweets."

"Oh," Green eyes regarded her with a speculative look as he pressed on, "Tell me what you _do_ like, then."

A pink tip flicked out, wetting her lips as curls swayed for the third time, "Really, Riddle, you don't need to do anything. It's fine."

"I _insist_."

Slightly taken back by the request-turned-order, she glanced at the stone-eyed gaze of the boy standing before her. Reminded once again of whom she was truly dealing with, she pressed her lips together in a tight line, hesitant as to what she should say next.

_This was the true facet of the boy standing before her, not the charming student whose personality he had all but perfected. She had to play it cool. She had to keep him from guessing._

Conflicting emotions battled for dominance within her as she shifted from foot to foot. In what seemed like a lifetime, she finally gave a small nod and murmured in acquiesce, "I like butterbeer."

Completely opposite from the cold look he had regarded her with, a large grin suddenly broke out on his face as he reached up and took her by the arm. "Then let us go to the Three Broomsticks immediately. I'm sure whatever business you have at Gladrag's Wizardwear-," a hand waved indifferently at the store she had led them to, "-can wait."

She felt the searing heat of his hand through the thick layers of clothing and was hard-pressed not to divest the remnants of her stomach at his feet. Instead, she immediately bit her tongue before the first stirrings of protests could escape her mouth. _Control, Hermione. Control. _

It was clear that his suspicions had been aroused. Otherwise, he would not have been in her quarters trying to perform Legilimency while she slept. He had even offered a shoddy excuse about a missing ring accompanied by a confession of his nighttime dalliances with her roommate.

She was not known as the brightest witch of her year for nothing. He probably_ had_ committed certain indiscretions with her roommate but she knew he had not been searching for the ring as was the excuse offered. She had seen it on his finger before he surreptitiously slipped it off while she fought off the nausea that came as a part of blocking his mind-probing spell.

He didn't know that though.

Now, it was all she could do to keep him from digging any deeper.

**xxxxx**

"Here ye go, lad, three butterbeers as per request!"

"Thanks, keep the change," He replied, placing a couple of galleons on the tabletop. Then, precariously taking the three mugs practically spilling over the brim with the sweet bubbly liquid, he carefully turned around, eyes searching for the bright blond hair of his close friend and the dark raven locks of his own brother.

"Alphard, over here!" A long arm waved enthusiastically, attached to the face of a boy whose features almost mimicked his own. The place was overflowing with students and as was such, he barely had time to swerve to the side before an exuberant third-year Slytherin and his friends pushed their way to the countertop, shouting their orders at the jolly owner.

By the time he had made it to the table, his hands were sticky with spilt butterbeer from being jostled about and he felt a faint ache in his shin from when it collided with the leg of a randomly situated chair.

Casting a quick 'scourgify' on his hands and the front of his robes that had received similar abuse by their treat, he quickly took his mug and held it up in the air, "Here's to another good year for the lot of us."

Grins adorning his two friends, they shouted heartily, "Hear, hear!" before sipping at their warm beverages.

"I'm surprised you lads even found a table," He commented, placing his drink back down on the table as he watched the various activities that surrounded them. A peal of giggles caught his attention and blue eyes flickered to a group of Slytherin girls who huddled about their own drinks, whispering the latest gossip and whatnots to each other. Some Gryffindor girls soon joined them wherein another round of giggling and snickering would ensue.

A shout and a hoot from the group of Hufflepuffs sitting at a nearby table as the lad won a match of exploding snaps against a younger Slytherin and to _their_ left, a group of Gryffindors sat with Ravenclaw or two while they poked at a bag innocuously labeled "Zonko's Joke Shop."

His gaze finally coming back to the bickering duo in front of him, he leaned in to catch whatever was left of the heated argument. The once buoyant boy was clearly very flustered, growing in irritation while the other wore a smirk much like a smug kitten that had just licked the milk dish.

…Not that it was any different than how Abraxas Malfoy usually looked.

Fingering the handle of his butterbeer, he grinned as Cygnus turned an even brighter red than was possible.

"Honestly, you'd think a lad couldn't look at a girl without his friends turning him into something reverent of a lovesick fool." He grumbled, arms crossing at his chest in defense as his own butterbeer sat forgotten.

"Lovesick fool no, but you're certainly nothing short of a rogue with a voracious appetite for the lovely girls of Hogwarts," Abraxas scoffed and rolled his grey eyes, "Do you take us as fools or something of that sort? We're not blind, you know."

"But you are right sodding gits," The young Black snapped back before snatching his butterbeer and chugging it rather avidly.

"It's alright if you like her," Alphard tried soothing his brother's wounded pride.

Abraxas grinned, leaning towards Alphard with a conspiratorial glance, "Apparently your brother claims to have had his eye on Valeria King for quite sometime now."

"The Hufflepuff?" Alphard lifted an eyebrow in disbelief, "Are you sure that's a wise choice?"

"Disregarding her lack of character judgment-,"

"She made out with both Duncan Crabbe and Nicholas Goyle." Abraxas' drawl cut in.

Cygnus flashed a sharp look at his friend, "Hardly something to be indicted for the rest of your life."

"It was at the same time."

The elder Black grimaced and even he could not help but feel a bit nauseous at the image it conjured. Crabbe and Goyle weren't _so bad_ and they were a rather frightening pair. Nonetheless, their shortcomings were certainly great and in plenty, horrid personalities and crude mannerisms a part of them.

"She _was_ rather fetching in her dress robes the other night." He tried moderating the pair.

Abraxas threw his hands in the air before getting up and gathering their almost-empty mugs, "It's useless trying to talk sense into you two. While you ponder the meaningful existence- or lack thereof- of your conquests belonging to the lacy-knickers kind, I'm going to fetch us a second round of drinks. Any special requests?"

"Butterbeer is fine."

Cygnus smirked, "Same here, except perhaps accompanied by a dearth of the stick up your arse."

Abraxas ignored the jibe and made his way to the crowded counter.

"I bet he wouldn't talk so many travesties if he actually chased a skirt or two," grumbled the Slytherin as he leaned forward.

"But honestly Cygnus, Valeria?"

"What would you have me do? Abraxas hasn't stopped goading me since the Opening Ball!" His brother groaned as color reappeared in his cheeks.

"But it's…_Valeria_!" His brother choked out.

"I heard you the first time," came the sarcastic response before their blond friend re-emerged with a tray of drinks.

"Six glasses? Aren't you the generous one today?" Alphard asked with mixed amusement as the Malfoy heir set the wares down.

Abraxas simply threw him a knowing smirk and stepped aside revealing a widely grinning Caspar Crouch, a smiling Slytherin Prefect, and a rigid Ravenclaw girl.

"Oh." Alphard's mouth formed the perfect 'o' before shuffling his chair quickly to the side to make room for the newcomers.

Caspar threw him a conspiratorial wink before snatching three chairs from nearby ignoring the protests of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs whom they belonged to. Then, he threw himself in the one closest to Alphard and leaned in, "Guess who I bumped into on their way here."

"Tom, Hera," Alphard greeted in amusement while throwing a pointed look at his blond friend who simply ignored him by passing out the various mugs.

"Glad you could join us," Cygnus flashed a warm smile at the new guests.

"I apologize if we've intruded." She responded politely in a stiff voice.

Alphard raised his eyebrows. _The girl could give Abraxas a run for his money in matters of propriety._

"No need to be shy!" Came the boisterous chortle of Caspar. "You're among friends."

He barely caught the wary look in her eyes, almost confused as to whether or not he had seen it. Another glance at the twitching vein situated at her temple covered by a soft curl only confirmed his reservations

_She clearly did not want to be here._

Hardly affronted, Alphard simply nudged the sweet drink at her as she took her seat and was glad when she flashed a small smile.

Merely a second later, her attention was drawn away by the loud hiss Abraxas emitted between two rows of perfectly straight teeth. His knees jerked away from Cygnus, causing a chain reaction of knocking his entire body into Tom's arm in the midst of picking up his own butterbeer. What resulted was more spilt butterbeer, a dirty look thrown by Abraxas towards the young Black as apologies were given to the Slytherin (who did seem as though he couldn't care less). Cygnus simply picked up his own drink and innocently sipped at it, ignoring the sharp looks thrown at him by three of the four other boys.

"Are you…alright?" She asked, uncertain as to what had just happened.

Abraxas shrugged dismissively, "Just Cygnus being a prat."

The boy in mention choked on his drink, throwing a glare at the now smirking Ravenclaw boy having been duly outed.

The curly-haired witch raised her eyebrows in question, now understanding there was some part of their exchange that she was clearly missing. Not one to tread on broken glass, she held up her glass, reminiscent of what Alphard had done earlier and gave another shy smile, "To Hogwarts."

"To Hogwarts!" They chorused right back.

She had just lifted her mug to her mouth before her torso was thrown off by a surprise hug from behind. As was the tradition, the liquid spilled all over her chest as a chorus of giggles exploded in her right ear.

"Excuse us boys," Said the girl with a grin, "We're going to steal Hera for just a second."

"What-!" Without any time to blink, the curly-haired witch was snatched out of her seat by her two roommates (Abraxas searched his memory for their names…_Christine and Deirdre was it_?) and quickly bundled over to the gaggle of Slytherin and Gryffindor girls that Alphard had surveyed earlier. The group grew, soon having been joined by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

The giggling only ceased when Hera was unceremoniously shoved into the crowded bench, while she waved a wand trying to clean the mess of butterbeer from her robes. Soon after, both girl and wand were swallowed up by the various others seated where coy looks were thrown towards the table containing the boys before another eruption of high-pitched laughter followed.

"That…would probably signify your extinction." Abraxas mumbled with wide eyes at how quickly the entire situation had developed.

Cygnus grunted but Alphard could see the underlying bewilderment in his blue eyes. Patting his brother's shoulder in what he hoped to be a comforting manner, he simply uttered, "So, uh…Quidditch eh?"

"First game of the season's coming up, isn't it?" The blond boy quickly caught the flickered look the Ravenclaw Prefect threw at him. Happy for any reprieve from the previous teasing he had endured, Cygnus quickly jumped into a conversation of strategy and planning while his two friends exchanged a relieved look.

Only Caspar caught the infuriated stare that Tom had directed at the group of girls before his roommate turned back to his cooling drink and took from it, several controlled sips.

Never one to dwell on his confusion (it _was_ a damper on his good spirits) and slightly disconcerted by the shiver that ran down his spine, the Crouch boy simply took a heavy swig from his drink and focused on the upcoming Quidditch season.

**xxxxx**

Monday was a slow day and having been a month into school, the work had started to pile up as the crux of the class material was finally delved into. Headed by the excitement of their first Quidditch game for the season, students- especially those of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor- found the final minutes of their last class lingering on ostensibly unnecessarily.

"Don't forget, your essays on the Fae Wars of the 1100s are due tomorrow. I expect everyone to have exactly eight inches!" The exasperated Binns finally shouted above their excited chatters.

Never one to stray too much behind the crowd, she quickly shuffled her notes into a neat pile and packed the papers into her schoolbag. Just as she tightly screwed the lid onto her inkwell, a shadow fell over her hands, her head turning in reaction.

Leonore stood there with a bland smile.

The curly haired witch chewed her bottom lip, immediately wondering what the sudden cause of contention between them was. While they were not the closest of friends, she had not perceived of any difficulties with her roommate. Certainly, the brunette was more reserved than the boisterous Deirdre and possessed a wit less than the entertaining one of Christine's. But now, there existed a type of tension and she could not understand what caused the shift in emotions.

After Deirdre and Christine surprised her at the Three Broomsticks by dragging her into an overwhelming group of girls, she was thrown unceremoniously into what seemed to be a den of hungry lions. All exchanged furtive glances and playful giggles with one another, all except Leonore who regarded her with cold eyes redolent of the green ones she'd encountered far too often.

She had a sinking suspicion she'd wrong her roommate in someway and unfortunately, she had absolutely no idea how to go about righting the matter.

_Bugger it all. She hadn't done anything wrong. Of that, she was sure of._

"Hey," Leonore finally greeted the curly-haired witch who had just closed the flap of her bag and was shouldering it.

Confrontation would not be a smart move here. "Hey," she replied back, throwing her roommate a friendly smile.

"This might seem just a slight bit strange, but Deidre and Christine sent me to fetch you."

"For what?"

Leonore threw her an odd look, "The Quidditch game of course. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor are playing against each other."

"Oh," came her flustered response as they made their way out into the active hallways, "I don't think I'll be attending."

"Oh but you must!" Leonore said with an almost strained-excitement as she took her by the elbow and linked their arms together. Her curly-haired companion was somewhat uncomfortable at their mockery of what seemed to be a close relationship.

"After all, it would seem _strange_ if you didn't come support your _own_ house." 

_Was it just her imagination or did Leonore mean something else entirely by that?_ Having been thrown slightly off-kilter by seemingly innocent but a sensitive barb nonetheless (whether or not it was unbeknownst to the Ravenclaw), she licked her lips nervously and then threw the girl a stiff nod, "I guess…it wouldn't hurt."

"Fantastic!"

She barely caught the smirk that adorned Leonore's face as the girl turned from her, unlinking their arms and skipping cheerfully down the hall.

_Something was clearly going on…but what?_

Shaking her head vigorously, she sighed and wiped tiredly at one eye. The chit was just her bloody roommate. No doubt she had seen the same smirk on Lavendar's face many a times and the girl was about as villainous as Hagrid's pup, Fluffy.

Something had to be done about her paranoia and soon because with each passing day, it was developing into a much more dangerous foe than her green-eyed Prefect.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Cygnus Black, Alphard Black, Abraxas Malfoy, etc.

**Warnings**: Time turner meaning clichés all about. Mweheh.

**Date**: December 28th, 2007

**Note: **Hopefully, the plot will start moving now. Thanks to my lovely beta, Nicole!

**xxxxx**

"_Happy Christmas!" Came the excited grin of a red-headed boy as he handed her a poorly wrapped box with a haphazardly placed ribbon._

"_From the both of us," chirped another grinning boy, this time with raven hair and bespectacled green-eyes as he watched her hold the box suspiciously._

"_This isn't another one of Fred and George's products, is it?" She asked with a grimace, remembering last year the chocolates she had received and barely escaped consuming._

_Both heads shook 'no' vigorously and she shook the box viciously with narrowed eyes at her grinning friends._

"_Just open it!" The red-head pushed rolling his eyes good humouredly._

_She stuck out her tongue at him and unwrapped the present, throwing the ripped tissue paper aside. Turning the small velvet box around in her hands, she shot her two best friends a confused look before slowly opening the lid._

_A gasp and then a large grin blossomed on her face._

"_Oh Merlin…this is…this is…" Tears came to her eyes as she pulled the item from the box._

"_Told you she'd like it!" The raven-haired boy said with a triumphant grin, nudging the nodding red-head sitting next to him._

"_Hmm…I still say we should have gotten the heart-shaped one. Girls always like frilly things like that…" The red-head mused as he smiled at the raven-haired boy._

"_No," She said in a soft voice, placing the necklace around her neck and holding the crystal pendant up into the firelight, "This is perfect, absolutely perfect."_

_The two boys grinned at each other and threw their arms around the small girl._

"_So…what did you get _us_ this year?"_

A series of clicks sounded throughout the empty room, followed by the creak of hinges in need of a good oiling. At the foot of a bed decorated with purple and blue coverlets, a slender witch with a thick head of curly hair fumbled through her sparse belongings. After a few minutes, her fingers finally brushed across a velvety surface and she felt around the edges just to make sure it was what she had been seeking. Then, plucking it from the trunk, she sat back down on the floor with a sigh of relief, hugging the small box to her chest.

_It was about time she unearthed it._

A smile that was neither forced nor strained blossomed across her face for the first time in days as her hands deftly plucked the lid open and withdrew the delicate item sitting on its cushion. Long fingers hooked around the chain and pulled the necklace from its velvet bed before holding it up, letting it dangle in the rays of sunlight streaming in from one of the open windows. At the end of the chain, a simple tear-drop crystal spun, the center glowing with an iridescent silver light.

_It had been their Christmas and this, their last physical gift to her._ She was never one to place much hold on material things but when it was _all she had left_ of the two people who meant the world to her…

The war had taken everything else. It had taken away her comfort, her morals, and pretty soon, her sanity would join the raucous bunch. She couldn't afford the last bit.

_She had to stay in control. Control, control, control._

She wanted to just let go. _But she couldn't._

_She was too much of a coward to give up._ She wasn't brave, she wasn't courageous, she was simply too scared to know what would happen if she finally did give in to the dark hole threatening to swallow her. Even though her situation was tumultuous at best, it was something she could deal with, it was something she could still control. And even though _that _bit of respite threatened to escape every now and then, at least it hadn't…yet.

_But it would soon._

It was because of this realization that she also knew she would need every bit of weaponry that would help her maintain this control- this stupid semblance of some wonky normalcy her consciousness desperately sought to brush upon.

There was no other choice- there had never been another choice. She scoffed at the notion of free will. What was the point if the choices left all worked against the one who was doing the choosing?

As funny as it seemed, her sanity probably depended on this shimmering jewel dancing mid-air in front of her eyes.

Not that it was anything _magically_ special. There were no special enchantments, charms, or protections, but strangely enough, just touching it already filled her being with a warming sense of calm.

…Because it had been _given to her,_ filled with the loving intentions, innocent of two boys she knew she would never see again. There were no thoughts of the glooming war, no thoughts of the death surrounding them. For that moment, it was just the three of them, together, celebrating another day together. It was the last remaining symbol she had left of _them_, the Golden Trio. Memories just weren't enough anymore.

_Time. It was all about time._

Her memories faded with time, her sanity slowly eroded with time- she could feel herself slipping with every second. She even dreaded waking every single morning because of the possibility that _that _was the day her sanity decided to take flight, disappearing in the after-haze of a dream she couldn't quite remember.

_She always dreamt when she slept because it was _enough_ that she _lived _her nightmare._

Reality was a brutal slap on the wrist and it was especially relentless against her.

"That's a very pretty piece of jewelry," Leonore's clear voice rang out in the dorm room.

The curly-haired witch quickly placed it around her neck and shoved it under her shirt, composing her features and turning to her roommate with a smile and a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, "A gift from an old friend."

The brunette Ravenclaw walked over to the large armoire the four of them shared and picked up a brush, pulling it through her long, silky hair. Her strangely cold eyes watched the slender witch seated at the food of the bed in the reflection of the mirror, the silent air between them filling with the scraping of plastic upon hair. "It seems quite cheap…but I'm assuming its worth is weighted more in sentimentalities."

A muscle underneath the Hermione's eye twitched surreptitiously as she noted the slightly derisive note her roommate's voice held, "It is worth quite a bit in that aspect." She concurred.

"I see." Leonore responded lightly with a slight nod of her head.

She wondered why the brunette's tilted smile unsettled her so.

Hadn't she seen that smirk somewhere before?

Turning back to the opened trunk, she put back all the things she had withdrawn and then pushed the heavy lid to a close. With a wave of her wand, a series of clicks sounded through the room and then the locks disappeared altogether, leaving an unblemished wooden surface. Brushing off her robes as she stood up, she then headed towards the door. With a hand on the handle, she nodded to the brunette girl, a tight smile stretched out on her face, "I'll see you at the game then."

"Of course," Leonore threw the curly-haired witch a beatific smile.

Stepping outside the dorm and closing the door gently behind her, Hermione patted her chest and felt the bump of her pendant underneath the layers of clothing.

_She had never wanted to leave a room so bad._

A troubled look crossed her face causing her to pause on the stairwell.

There was something off about Leonore. It was an unfounded statement and that much she knew. She had nothing with which to compare, having isolated herself so well at the beginning of the year. Though what she did know, was that her roommates all seemed harmless in one way or another…perhaps it was only their quirks that were coming out now?

In the midst of her ponderings, a loud gurgle sounded from her stomach and she immediately brought her hand to it, rubbing the offended organ. Her feet quickly picked up its pace once more, taking her down the stairs, through the common room and out the portrait hole. She remembered vaguely that she had not gone to the Great Hall for quite some time, subsisting on snack bars the castle elves left for the students in their rooms as a bit of sustenance from time to time. It was a miracle her stomach was only protesting _now_.

Unfortunately, she didn't really feel up to dealing with the noises of excited students at dinner in the Great Hall; she remembered avoiding it even back…_then_.

But there was no way her stomach would allow her to skip another_ actual_ meal. Strolling towards the direction of the Hufflepuff dorms where she knew the kitchens also resided, she wondered how she would persuade the castle elves for a bite without having to go to the Great Hall. There were still a couple of hours left before the Quidditch match. She might even have time to prepare herself a little bit of something if allowed.

**xxxxx**

A satisfied moan sounded from his throat as the chocolaty drink flowed down his throat, the warmth seeping into his very bones. "This is by far the best beverage I will ever partake in. Thank you so much, Letty."

"Letty is pleased." The small elf said with a happy grin before shuffling off to join her busy comrades.

He plucked at a place of fruit, already clad in his Quidditch gear as he quickly ran through a couple of plays through his mind. Though immersed as he was in his thoughts, it still did not cause him to miss the unmistakable bush of head poking into the kitchen with a rather hungry look about her face before she lifted her eyes and caught sight of him.

She lifted a hand to her mouth in surprise, the drop of her jaw correlating with her widening eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry," She mumbled through her fingers, "I didn't know anyone was here."

Glad for the company, he pulled out a stool beside him and waved her over, "Don't be so polite, come join me! I'm afraid I don't have anything offer but fruit, though I can convince Letty to make some of her delectable chocolate if you wish for a cup."

Much taller than the small witch, he was able to see her coloring cheeks from a certain vantage point as she took the seat next to him. She cleared her throat and nodded, patting her chest before turning to him, "That would be nice, thank you, Black."

"Letty, if you please? And bring something hot for her, she's far too thin for her own good." He plucked a juicy peach from the plate of fruits and licked his nectar soaked fingers, flashing a large grin, "All this propriety, Hera, and I'll mistake you for a Malfoy."

She blinked owlishly at him, never once noticing that Letty had just placed a mug and a plate of steaming, hot food before her. "Uh…" A discreet cough went into a cupped palm before she shrugged good-naturedly and offered him a crooked smile, "I'm not sure if I would be able to pull off his blond hair."

He snorted, "I doubt many people could."

She gave a gracious thanks to the elf, making the poor creature drop whatever she had been doing in surprise. Letty wasn't the only shocked one; he was fairly astonished himself.

Elves rarely, if ever, received any sort of respect for what they did. If they didn't receive complete disdain from the witches and wizards that governed them, then they were simply non-existent. This girl was obviously cut from a different cloth than the rest.

The witch in question didn't notice the slack-jawed look upon his face, so intent on her food in her hunger. She dug into it with a strange fervor; he would have called it fairly lady-like if not for the mountainous amounts that were being deposited in her mouth.

He smirked into his drink.

Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Cygnus about this.

_Serves that kid right for running off with that buffoon, Crouch._

**xxxxx**

After parting ways with the eldest Black boy, her feet took her to the Astronomy Tower, her favorite place to think next to the Library. The sun had not set so there were no worries about catching couples _in flagrant delicto_; that sort of thing only happened after hours.

She could also avoid the unwanted appearance of a certain Prefect here unlike the library where he seemed to reside often.

Peering out the open windows, she noticed with chagrin a patch of storm clouds gathering in the far distance. A breeze blew through the open arches of the tower and she shivered at the chill that ran down her back. At the next breeze that blew in, she was filled with a sense of puzzling dread, wondering if it was only the seasonal drop in temperature that had her hackles raised so.

There was only one other reason that caused her body to react in such a negative way and he was currently in his dorms, last time she checked.

She grasped at the pendant around her neck and breathed deeply. She had promised she wouldn't let her paranoia get to her. It only created unwanted attentions for herself that she could ill afford. As long as she got through this year, maybe, just maybe, she would…

Thunder rumbled through the darkened sky and she narrowed her eyes. Players were already filling out onto the field. Some students were already occupying the bleachers. There was only half an hour left before the game.

The storm clouds would be here by then.

**xxxxx**

The long, blond hair that once shined with healthiness was dimmed by the days of grime and grease that shrouded it in clumps. A sneer marred his classically handsome face, features now gaunt from many days without food as he dragged the tip of his wand teasingly across his curved lips. There was a maniacal glint in his periwinkle blue eyes and the dark circles underneath belied how much he lacked in sleep.

The damp autumn wind blew past him and a few seconds later, he lifted his head towards the skies reveling in the sudden rain brought on by the thick, black storm clouds. Then, bringing his face back down, his eyes searched far into the distance. Tiny dots of red and blue zoomed all around the colorfully flagged poles while a small sound of cheering could be heard from the various others seated beneath them.

He drew the long, black wand from his robe and flicked it. To the naked eye, it seemed as though it was a simple twitch of the wrist; nothing seemed to occur at least within his immediate area.

About a hundred miles away, a pitiful wave of groans emitted from a large concrete complex. There was an explosion, an alarm, and then it disappeared under a cloud of black. The only things visible were the long, pearlescent claws resembling hands protruding from the sleeves of the floating black cloaks.

A laugh threatened to burst forth from his throat. Then, another cheer was heard from the colorfully clad crowd off in the distance.

He couldn't help but let the sentiment spill forth.

**Xxxxx**

She shivered under her thick robes as the rain pelted down on them. Warming charms _had_ been cast but with damp robes, it was pointless to keep doing so. Sliding her shaking hands underneath her robes, she rubbed at the goosebumps littering her arms and looked up into the sky, just barely making out the players zooming around on their broomsticks. A cheer went up as Gryffindor scored another point and without any hesitation, her brown eyes moved to her House's seeker. They were still behind the Ravenclaws but only by a few goals. The snitch was still hiding somewhere and with the rain, it was practically impossible to find.

He was obviously frustrated, raven locks plastered to his fair skin as he floated above the groups, blue eyes searching for the elusive golden snitch as best as he could with the torrents of rain pouring from the skies.

"Come on, Alphard!" Shouted Deidre from her left as the girl shot up from her seat, cupping her mouth. Christine cheered alongside the girl as Leonore sat in her seat, a faint smile playing upon her lips.

"Yeah, Alphard!" Came the distinctly male voice from her right as the boy shot from _his_ seat and pumped his fist into the air. Thick in the crowd as they were, she wasn't too surprised to find that he was practically on her lap as he jumped in his spot against the railing.

That was not on her mind. What _did_ occupy her thoughts were the ominous seeming storm clouds.

Was it normal for them to be _that_ black?

She caught the poor boy just as he stumbled and was rewarded with a charming smile, bright blue eyes twinkling as she gripped him around the waist to steady him.

"My heroine." Cygnus fluttered his abnormally long eyelashes at her in a mock-feminine fashion as he _did_ sit on her lap.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes and shove him gently away before standing up herself, red splashing her cheeks.

Alphard zoomed past them and close on his heels was another Seeker, this one clad in red-robes.

_Black hair, green eyes_…She gasped, her hand coming right to her mouth as her eyes widened considerably._ No, no…it couldn't be…it was just a fanciful notion of hers to see what she wanted to see and not what was really there._

And then…

"Come on, Potter, let's go!" Was the rumble from the other stands as a bunch of Gryffindor students stood up and cheered. This spurred on the Seeker even more as he was now, neck-to-neck with Alphard with an indistinct golden blur darting but a few feet in front of them.

She closed her eyes and her mouth formed a grimace at the tight pain in her chest. A burning sensation grew at the corners of her eyes as her lips opened to take heaps of deep breath.

She could not bear to open her eyes.

"_Hermione!" He yelled as he jumped down from the broom and ran to her at a break-neck speed._

_A large grin broke out on her face as she pushed through the crowd and leapt at him, laughing all the while as he spun her in a complete circle._

"_Did you see? Did you see? I caught it! I caught the snitch!"_

_She looked into his immensely happy green-eyes and hugged him even tighter, "I saw! I'm so proud of you! Congratulations!"_

"_Hey, what about me!?" Came the seemingly insulted shout of a red-haired boy as he gathered the both of him in his arms and picked them up with a surprising strength._

_She squealed while Harry's laugh was muffled by the tall, red-headed boy's robes._

"Oh dear, Circe! Look at them go!" Deidre gasped as she took the curly-haired witch's arm in a death-like grip causing the girl's eyelids to shoot open.

The witch's attention was summoned immediately to the two Quidditch Seekers as they zoomed up into the sky after the snitch, disappearing into the thick of the storm clouds.

Another painful memory of_ her third year _played out like a bad film. Just like before, the crowd hushed, waiting in anticipation as the seekers jetted after the elusive golden ball. Below, the beaters, chasers, and keepers kept their fight against each other with the bludgers.

She couldn't shake the chill from her shoulders. It was like death breathing down her neck.

_Just like last time._

There was a short cheer from the Gryffindor stands when a dot of red could be seen reappearing once more from the sky.

Her eyes narrowed before widening in fear. A crack of lightening lit up the storm clouds and for a scant second, they could make out the outlines of several hooded figures floating without any devices.

_Just like last time._

Then, pandemonium exploded from the benches the professors occupied.

She was already feeling around for her wand.

"What in the name of Godric were those?" One professor cried, squinting into the dark storm clouds.

Fear filled her entire being and adrenaline immediately pulsed through her body, her hands wildly grasping at her heavy robes for the slender piece of wood as she pushed her way through the confused throng of Ravenclaw students in her search for the stairs. There was much displeasure at her persistence to reach the exit but she gave no regards to any of their cries.

"HARRY!" She screamed out in a hoarse voice as she darted down the stairs and onto the field, the falling figure horribly still as he depressed towards the ground at a swift speed.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Hera!?" She heard Leonore scream with displeasure behind her. Cygnus was already dashing down the stairs, hoping to catch the wayward Ravenclaw so intent on her destination.

He whipped out his wand, his robes flapping all around his legs as he sprinted after the dashing girl. _She could not go out on the field! One wrong hit with a bludger and…well, bloody hell! What was she doing!?_

The curly-haired witch paid them no mind, her legs carrying her quickly to the middle of the pitch.

"Ronegn!" One of the professors shouted. All were standing up, very confused at the strange display of the new transfer student. Foreign or not, one simply did not dash out into the middle of a sports game for no reason and a bloody Quidditch game at that!

_Apparently, they hadn't realized the Gryffindor seeker was without his broom._

She jerked to a stop and in a matter of seconds, had her wand held out above her head. A robed figure was heard shouting colorful oaths as he very nearly hit her, swerving just in time to avoid her still figure. She took no notice; her mind working furiously as she quickly sorted through her various memories, intent on finding the one that would aid her in her spell. At the same time, a burst of royal blue robes came forth from the clouds, flying vertically at the ground in an indistinguishable speed, arm held out as he closed in on the unconscious Gryffindor seeker.

Behind him, a cloud of black parted the clouds briefly, claws outstretched like he with his arm as their hoods fluttered against the wind of their downward fall. Ghoulish mouths could be seen in an open scream when someone shouted out, "Dementors!"

All hell broke loose as the students shoved and pushed each other out of the way to get to the stairs. The capabilities of these foul creatures had not been lost on the students and even though many had been taught the Patronus spell, none were willing to stay behind to test out how capable they were with the spell.

"Come on, Cygnus!" A pretty raven-haired girl tugged at his arm.

He shrugged her off and pushed her towards the students dashing away, "Just go, Walburga!" A dash of a silver light glowed above them, blocking a stray Dementor intent on catching a prey or two. Around them, glowing animals attacked the hooded creatures in a sort of fervor resonant with professors desperately trying to protect their students.

Out on the field, the curly-haired witch ignored all of their screams and instead, locked eyes with the frantic blue ones of the eldest Black heir before sending her best, reassuring smile. Her brown eyes flickered quickly to the right and for a moment, he was unsure of what she wanted him to do before realization settled upon him. His mouth pressed in a thin line, he pushed forward with the last of his strength and closed his fingers around the padded arm of his opponent. Immediately, he swerved to the right, clearing the field between the slender witch and the cloud of Dementors bearing down on her.

She could not tell whether or not tears were streaming down her face, drenched in the rain as she was. She was, however, just vaguely aware of her wrist flicking violently as she dropped her jaw and in a voice filled with desperation, she hollered,

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

**xxxxx**

A set of footsteps hurried down the strangely absent hallways, their owner's faces filled with grimness as their Ministry badges flashed under the enchanted lights. Stopping before a stone statue, the man standing at the front stepped forward and spoke,

"I am the Head Auror Gower, please inform the Headmaster of our presence."

The stone statue immediately swung open and allowed their entry. The group hurried up the stairs in a single file and quickly entered an already half-filled chamber of Hogwarts professors and staff members. At the forefront of it all stood an auburn-haired wizard and a weary Headmaster wiping at his sweat-drenched forehead.

Before the new attendants could get a word in anywise, the auburn-haired wizard pointed a quelling stare at the Head Auror and in a grave voice, asked, "What happened at Azkaban?"

Head Auror Gower pressed his lips in a tight line as bowed his head in apology to a wizard he clearly respected. Without any hesitance whatsoever, he answered in a similarly weighty tone, "It was Grindelwald, sir. He's officially declared war."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K 

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Cygnus Black, Alphard Black, Abraxas Malfoy, Charlus Potter, and more to be added in the future.

**Warnings**: Time turner meaning clichés all about. Mweheh.

**Date**: January 9th, 2008

**Note: **Gosh, it's weird to have that 2008 at the end instead of 2007. Anyways, please be sure to read the 'ending notes' and my utmost thanks to the loveliness that is Nicole who had to suffer with this at its worst!

**And thanks to those who reviewed**: Spectrum Schenooks (I'm glad you enjoyed it!), RannayBabiiex3 (Lol, hope this is update enough), blindfaithoperadiva (Hmmm, perhaps he's not so random?), Hotkat144 (Yay!), Cursed-PirateChick (Thank you so much for your review! You don't know how much I enjoyed reading it!), Gueneviere (She was never unremarkable. It's silly she thought she could hide it. Mwehe.), ThEnAmEsGiGi (Here is the update. Haha!), aLittlelonely (Hope you enjoy this bit), Duckie (Thanks!) and my fellow Ridione-authoress, Nerys (I heart you!).

**Xxxxx**

"_Expecto Patronum!" A silver tiger burst forth from her wand, snarling and frothing at the mouth as it charged upwards at the Dementors bearing down on her. The black robed creatures quickly scattered, flying towards easier prey as the feline chased them across the sky._

_The lone witch jerked her arm and her Patronus moved accordingly, its lithe figure bounding through the dark sky, banishing as many of the creatures as it could. Her adrenaline was voraciously pumping through her body and the amount of focus required for the spell was enormous; she didn't stand a chance against the oncoming bludger._

_Thwap! Crack! A hoarse scream tore from her mouth as she crumpled to the muddy ground, the fracture in her leg bleeding profusely as her Patronus flickered and then died out. She clutched at her thigh, digging all four fingernails into the skin trying to draw some of the pain away from the broken bone and torn skin._

_The Dementors quickly spotted an easy prey, four or five of them swiftly flying across the open field with their ghoulish mouths wide open._

_She looked up, gritted her teeth as she held up her wand with a shaking hand, "Expecto Patronum!"_

_A tiny wisp of silver dashed from her wand end and disappeared._

_Her breath coming in short gasps now, she screamed again, "Expecto Patronum!"_

_A barely corporeal tiger burst forth weakly, only knocking the oncoming Dementors aside before disappearing altogether._

_She let out a strangled cry, her wand shaking now more than ever as the words left her mouth in rapid succession, "Expecto Patronum!"_

_Another barely corporeal tiger burst forth._

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

_And again._

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

_She looked up, the last shout not having been one of her own. A wry grin was flashed her way as the jackal Patronus arched up and swiped at the oncoming creatures._

"_Come on!" He shouted, rain dripping down his pale face as he reached down with a hand to pull her up._

"_No!" She shouted, slapping his hands away as the thunder cracked above them._

"_Stop being unreasonable! I'm trying to help you here!" He yelled out, his Patronus dancing around them in a circle, attacking whatever creature came close._

"_I'm not! It hurts too much!" She admitted, glaring up at his profile, her skin red from a mixture of humiliation, pain and the cold rain beating down on their faces._

_He clenched his jaw before decisively flicking his wrist and ending the Patronus spell. Then with another muttered incantation under his breath and a flick of his wrist, the pain disappeared from her leg. The bone was still protruding from her skin and blood kept pouring out._

"_Come on, I can't do anymore than this so we'll have to get you to the hospital ward." He grabbed an arm and yanked her up around his shoulders before holding out his wand and shouting out, "Expecto Patronum!" _

_The Dementors scattered once again, hovering above the hobbling pair as she clutched at her leg, grimacing at the soreness that shot through her body while her nerves resisted the pain-numbing spell._

She bit back another scream as Madame Stein reset her bone with another flick of her wrist before shoving a bottle of some foul smelling potion in her hand. Hermione threw it back in one swift gulp, barely holding back the need to gag as the slimy liquid slid down her throat, her taste buds rejecting it all the way.

Apparently, the potions at Hogwarts had _always_ tasted bad.

She clutched at her throat, the disgusting taste not quite having left her mouth as her sensitive nerves screamed at the medi-witch's ministrations. The hospital ward was chaotic, with several students lying unconscious on cots around them; helpers from St. Mungo's bustled around, spells and charms being cast left and right.

She watched her skin seal back up through the blurriness caused by her tears as the potion set to work, melding her bones back together. At least this pain wasn't as jolting as the resetting of her bone.

_Though it wasn't as though she was a stranger to pain; the Cruciatus Curse hurt far more than this._

It was another barely there memory. One she was thankful to forget.

Madame Stein hurried off, having finished with her for the time being.

Hermione stared up into the ceiling, clenching the sheets as a painful jolts shot through her body in a constant stream.

"You dropped this," The voice from her left said as he finally spoke up, green eyes watching her before he pulled a broken chain from his pocket.

She turned her head to the side, brown eyes widening upon sight of the pendant sitting in his palm. "Where'd you find that?" She rasped in a voice just above a whisper.

He placed it on the stand beside her, leaning back into the chair before shrugging, "When Madame Stein took you, I think it snagged on my clothes and broke clean off. You might consider getting the chain replaced." He suggested, peering at her tense face carefully.

She nodded, thinking it was answer enough.

He licked his lips and stood up, "Well, I think I've done my good duty for the year. I'll see you later, perhaps."

She bit her lip before looking at his retreating back. In a raspy voice, she hesitantly called out, "Thank you for the help…Tom." His first name still seemed foreign on her lips.

He turned around, an all-too characteristic smirk on his face as he tucked his hands into his pockets nonchalantly, "Of course, Hera. Anytime." Then he turned on his heel and disappeared out the swinging door.

She grimaced as a thought flitted through her head.

_He wasn't an altruistic being. Quid pro quo and he would collect his payment whenever and whatever he saw fit._

**Xxxxx**

She had exited the ward as soon as the potion finished its job. There was a bit of soreness where her bone broke but other than that, the entire area seemed flawless in its healing. So busy with the unconscious students who had the misfortune of actually being brushed upon by one of the Dementors, none of the bustling medi-wizards or witches noticed her leave. Pepper-Up Potions were being brewed right on the spot, supplies having run out.

Something else must've happened if even St. Mungo's couldn't provide their own stock to the schools comparably meager ones.

Eyebrows narrowed in thought as she scrambled out the doorway, hurrying down the hall with one destination in mind only. As was such, she didn't hear the figure calling out her name or striding up next to her until a strong hand closed around her arm, bringing her to a halting stop.

"What?" She snapped harshly, annoyed at having been disturbed.

A_ different_ green-eyed boy stood before her, a scratch across his cheek as his unruly hair fell in damp waves over his forehead.

_Harry…_ Her eyes widened considerably, jaw clenched so that it wouldn't drop in surprise at seeing this doppelganger of her best friend.

"-negn?" He finished, mumbling his words in a shy manner as he shifted from foot to foot in his heavy Quidditch gear.

"I'm sorry, excuse me?" She blinked owlishly at him, pink dusting her cheeks.

"Are you Hera Ronegn?" He repeated a bit louder though just as shy.

She nodded, studying his pale countenance and marveling at how similar he looked compared to her best friend. "And you are?" She asked her voice distant.

He grinned lopsidedly before holding out a hand still encased in a glove, "I'm Charlus Potter! It's a pleasure to meet the girl who saved my life!"

She couldn't help but feel disappointed at this and also a bit of shame. It was silly to have allowed hope that it was one of her best friends here, by her side._ Like before._

"Oh no," She immediately responded, shaking her head, curls bouncing every which way, "I didn't save your life." _I can barely hold onto my own._

"What?" Charlus asked, confusion flittering across his features, "But Alphard said-,"

"Alphard was the one who saved you," She interjected, shaking hands clasping behind her back, "I simply aided him along when he had a bit of trouble." Charlus stared at her and when it passed to being longer than necessary, she fidgeted under his intense gaze before throwing him a brief smile, "Are you feeling better?"

He blinked owlishly before chuckling awkwardly and rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, it took several batches of Pepper-Up Potion previous to my waking but yeah, I am. Thank you for asking. I must say though, I wish the kitchens were still open so I could partake of some bread and cheese, _something_ to get rid of the foul aftertaste."

She chuckled. _The taste will never get better._

"Pardon me?" He asked with a smile.

_Merlin, had she spoken her thoughts out loud?_ "Nothing, I'm just tired. Never mind me. I should go." She responded in a rush, earning herself raised eyebrows.

"Right," He was bemused, that was for sure.

She turned around, robes swirling around her ankle when she paused just long enough for softly spoken words to escape her mouth, "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"A pleasure indeed." he repeated, bowing his head as light footsteps faded down the hallways.

**Xxxxx**

There was an unmistakable amount of tension in the air when she first stepped through the portrait hole. Most of the Quidditch members were still waylaid in the hospital while the ones lucky enough to get away had changed and currently sat somber in front of the flickering fireplace. A few heads looked up and the hairs on the back of her neck rose accordingly as thoughtful and inscrutable glances were shot her way unabashed. Her own eyes couldn't help but flicker to them while she slowly started towards the dormitory stairways, footsteps careful and quiet so as to not disturb the terse silence permeating the air.

She had _only_ taken a few steps before a pair of feet thudded down the stairs, and the tall figure overshadowed the entrance of the stairwell, relief clouding his blue eyes. Brown eyes looked up, catching the damp black curls and the familiar school robe cloaking his figure as he rushed towards her with concern, worry, and – anger? – in his eyes.

"Hera!"

She took a few steps back, her face breaking out in a weary smile as the boy clamped two strong hands around her arms.

Alphard took a deep breath before he pulled her into a tight hug, a squeak escaping her lips before he pushed her back again. Wholly perturbed, she was quite unprepared for the next words that left his mouth.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ do something so _stupid_ again, do I make myself clear?" She had never before heard such a cold fury in his voice.

"Wh-what?" She stuttered, eyes blinking wildly as her cheeks suffused with color from the attention they were garnering. Another tall figure had rose from his seat and was rapidly approaching the scene.

He bared his clenched teeth, hands squeezing so hard she was sure to find bruises there tomorrow morning before he dropped them from her arms.

She stared, half confused and half worried as her companion kept strangely still. Her hand hesitantly reached out, a question on her lips, "Alphard?"

As if her murmured call had woke him from a slumber, his head snapped up startling her for the second time that evening and with a deftness that could only be ascribed to his Seeker abilities, he snatched her hand up and pulled her towards the portrait hole.

"Merlin, you two." Abraxas grumbled as he hurried after the pair, never once looking back at the curious stares of other Ravenclaws following them.

**xxxxx**

"Alphard!" She called out, hating the breathless hitch in her voice very much as she half-ran and was half-dragged by the strong Ravenclaw sprinting down the halls before her.

He didn't answer, preoccupied with opening classroom doors and peering in for any persons. The first survey proved immediate success and she was thrown into it quite unceremoniously, stumbling as she bumped up against a wooden desk. Annoyance flooded her body as she jerked around at her heels and stalked towards the tall boy, hands on her hips as he finished the locking spell on the door.

Right after he turned around to face her, her finger was already digging deeply into her chest, eyes burning with fire, "_What_, is the meaning of _this_, Mr. Black?" She jabbed a couple more times with each pronunciation, "I. Am. Not. To. Be. Manhandled."

He grasped her hand, lips pursing as his blue eyes glared into her brown ones. He stood up, drawing every advantage to his height over her lack therefore of and tightly held her jabbing finger, "You…"

"_Me what_?" She argued, trying to wrench her hand from his iron-clad grip.

"…So…" He struggled with the words, exasperation on every inch of his face. "_Stupid!_"

Her jaw dropped open and she made one more yank with her hand, the offended appendage flying free from his now-loosened grip. Her eyes stared at him incredulously; tongue working to find the correct words that could describe her shock.

He blew out a breath, hand mussing up the damp curls that clung to his face as he started to pace back and forth in front of her, shooting angry glances every once in a while.

Her jaw opened and closed a couple more times before she worked out the phrase, "_Are you barking mad_?"

"Me?" His voice had taking on a high pitch as he stopped and advanced right into her face, "_I _am _not_ the one who ran out in the middle of a dangerous Quidditch game to take a cloud of Dementors by _my lovely self_. What is _with_ you!? Do you have a _death wish_ or something!? Why would you do something like that? You are not trained or skilled enough, and I did not think you ignorant enough to actually believe you could have taken on the entire English Dementor population just because you might know a measly charm. Apparently I was wrong!"

_A death wish. Not skilled enough. Ignorant. _It was impossible not to feel anything at the harsh words. _Did she have a death wish? _She was afraid to know the answer to that. Rather, she was afraid to face the answer. Her lips pressed into a white line, brown eyes looking away as they filled up with tears.

"Merlin-," He paused helplessly, face scrunching quite painfully as he reached out with both hands, "Don't cry, _please_."

_To Hades with control._ It didn't matter anymore because nothing would erase the truth of his words.

She slapped his hands away, hating his compassion and turned her back to him all the while, chiding herself for being so emotional. A million words wanted to scream their release from the confines of her control but the only words she allowed to slip out were an unfortunately meek, "I was just trying to help."

"_I was trying to help."_

_Green eyes stared down at her, understanding glimmering in their depths as large hands, worn by Quidditch rubbed her gently on the cheeks. "I know. But you understand, right?"_

_Another voice interjected before she could answer. "It's time."_

His hands dropped to his side helplessly as the anger floated from his body. It had been a while since he'd dealt with anything of the crying sort, the last being that of his paramour whose loud sobs mostly annoyed him because he knew it was being used as a manipulation tactic rather than an expression of sorts.

It was simply out of character for the usually stoic witch. She didn't sob or make any loud noises; it was a totally private affair and he had the distinct notion he was spying upon something that was rarely, if ever, seen. Shoulders tense and hands clenched, he could see she was trying hard to reign in on her emotions.

The verbosity with which he was blessed with just a scant few minutes earlier now escaped him and so, in their stead, he reverted to his pre-teens self of when his younger siblings still needed the comfort of an older brother's arms. He sighed and stepped forward, arms encircling her from behind. It was a fairly intimate position and quite inappropriate especially since his younger brother was quite enamored of her but _he had no idea what else to do_. To his credit, it was an awkward hold, her body too tense to meld into his form.

Hermione's eyes were quickly dried but she felt tired, a consequence of the potion she'd imbibed earlier and the accumulation of the day's events. She didn't know what had triggered this flux of emotional downpour, only that she knew she would regret it later. When she felt the limbs reaching to clasp around her stomach, she turned to stone. _What was he doing?_

"What are you doing?" Her voice bit out harshly, mainly out of shock and surprise.

He didn't answer. His arms simply tightened around her.

Tense as she was, she couldn't help but absorb the familiarity of them. It had been a strenuous few months and she could not help but relish in the nostalgia of a hold she missed. They were all victims of their past and she was no different.

They had strong arms, _he _had strong arms; the validity of this did not matter whether or not it carried her own bias of simply enjoying their close comfort or the less romantic notion that the muscles were built from years of Quidditch. Simply put, it was _in their_ arms that a silent promise of security, friendship and the sureness of tomorrow were given.

The arms surrounding her stomach said the same.

_It had been a while since she was held so tightly like this._

_It had been a long time since she'd received _any _sort of relief whatsoever._

She couldn't help but close her eyes and sink into the embrace, wishing for a scant second that the black curls that pressed upon her cheeks were red instead. _Just like before._

It was this position that a pair of grey eyes found them in after unlocking the door with his wand. They widened just slightly before the owner pulled his head from the doorway, shutting it silently behind him. Then, with the slender fingers, he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing slowly.

The situation had just turned a bit more complicated.

**Xxxxx**

She stared unblinkingly at the sheet of parchment in her hands, a pair of inquisitive periwinkle blue eyes watching her as the pallor of her skin turned a shade lighter.

"I don't understand. Why are my classes being switched?"

Albus cleared his throat, clasping his hands together. "The Faculty feels that standard classes are not enough. As such, we believe that a move towards a more advanced curriculum for you would be far more advantageous."

Her eyes finally blinked and her head finally turned to look at him. His words seemed so formal and she grasped at the reasoning that would keep her from this. "Am I allowed to refuse?"

He chuckled, leaning back into his chair as his hands dropped to his lap. Many years had been spent at Hogwarts and never once had he heard of a student refusing such a prestigious honor. Though his laugh broke the tension in the air, blue eyes studied her carefully, searching her deadpan expression to the knuckle-white grip she had on the innocent piece of parchment. He knew she was interesting from the day she'd walked through the school doors. He had not been wrong. He _would_ _not _be wrong.

"I don't suppose I can petition against this?" She pressed, setting the wrinkled paper on his desk, removing her hand to resettling her school bag.

Albus shook his head, "I'm afraid that it was also due to the Ministry's recommendations to the Headmaster that you be placed in this program. Thus, the school is far more compelled to do so than they ever have been."

"What!?" She exclaimed, all notions of emotional control having gone out the window. "_Why_ would they even bother with _this_?"

"The Patronus charm," He replied succinctly.

Awareness bloomed on her face, showing with the widening of her eyes and the pursing of her mouth. A laugh was forced from her lips as the corners of her eyes wrinkled accordingly. The joyful expression, however, did not reach her eyes. "Oh that's silly. That was taught in fifth year…" Her voice trailed off as the auburn-haired wizard shook his head. "But I thought-,"

His expression turned solemn, any amusement gathered before now gone. "It's not taught until seventh year here at Hogwarts."

Suddenly her head felt faint and her mouth dry as the deserts of the Sahara. _How could she have made such a blunder? Though to her credit, it wasn't as though she could have known this information. After all, history was never so specific as to record the exact syllabi of classes. _She had to think fast.

_Her old school then…rather, the school she was _supposed_ to have transferred from._

As if reading her mind, he continued, "I also checked with your old school, _Aotearoa's Institution_ _of Magic _and it isn't even part of their curriculum there. So the question that begs to be asked is…how were you able to learn such a powerful and advanced charm without the obvious help of a professional?"

_Her transcripts showed her Muggle parentage._

Unspoken questions hung in the air and her lower lip trembled. She quickly sucked it in, an old habit of nibbling on it returning as her fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of her bag so as to not belie her shattered nerves with their trembles. "I learnt it myself."

"Ah," He simply murmured, "Then a bright student like you should understand why this decision has been undertaken, no?"

She nodded mutely, glancing every which way but at him. "But it doesn't make sense. I've only done average in my class thus far and I can't be expected to exceed above that. Also, Professor…"

"Yes?"

"I am curious…" Brown eyes retained its original sharpness, "Why did the Ministry advance this opinion?"

A grim smile crossed his face as a glint in his spectacles veiled the emotions in his eyes, "Excluding the fact that various professors have spoken on behalf of your academic prowess in class, average or not, there is also the fact that in times of war with a population as sparse as ours, one must keep all options open, correct?" He sighed, "I would not wish my students to war and hope that these issues resolve itself before it comes to that. Unfortunately, things are want to go awry."

_Bloody hell, she was being recruited for the Ministry. _Another nodding of her head. It was an automatic notion now.

A moment of silence crossed them as he watched her curiously. Her eyes stared at his general direction but they were unseeing. "I believe your Advanced Potions is starting soon. You may be excused." He held up the parchment with her new schedule on it.

"Thank you," She murmured, blinking once before leaning forward and taking the proffered item. Then, she quickly shuffled out the door without a single glance behind.

His blue eyes glittered sadly after her.

**Xxxxx**

She opened the classroom door, peeking inside the dungeon classroom guardedly as the few students turned their heads towards her. Professor Slughorn, in the midst of calling out names for attendance, paused slightly before waving her in. The door closed behind her without a single sound and she fiddled with the parchment sheet in her hands.

"Students! Welcome our new Advanced Potions student, Miss Hera Ronegn!" Slughorn announced, a prospective light entering his eyes.

She held back the urge to grimace as the ten or so students watched her with something akin to slight interest. Most were Ravenclaws and Slytherins, already stationed at their respective work benches and with their partners. Tom's green eyes watched her with a bit of curiosity before he nodded stiffly at her and then turning his attention back to the front.

"Wonderful, our numbers are even now." He grinned, pointing to a table at his left, her right.

Her breath hitched in her throat. 

"Move along now, we mustn't tarry." Slughorn rushed as he picked up his planner, calling out names once more.

She looked away and hurried to take her seat next to the lone student, looking straight ahead. Grey eyes watched her with a bit of amusement before a slender finger reached out to tap on her arm.

This time she did grimace but quickly covered it up with a smile.

"Welcome to the class…_Hera_." He drawled, a hint of bemusement underlying his lazy tone.

Inwardly, she stiffened. She didn't remember them being on first name basis. "Er…thank you?" She winced. It wasn't supposed to come out like a question.

Abraxas didn't bother to hide his smirk.

**xxxxx**

**Ending Notes: **

_Tom's Patronum- _Aren't you tired of seeing a snake? I thought a Jackal just as likely. Also, I imagine that with the hard life he endured, he'd treasure happy memories more than the average Joe, wouldn't you say? Simple as they can or may be, it is his background that gives him the edge, I think. Remember, people aren't born evil, unless you're that demon child from 'The Omen'- what a freaky movie.

_Aotearoa's Institution_ _of Magic_- 'Aotearoa' is the name given to New Zealand by the indigenous Māori. The name means 'land of the long white cloud' which I thought befitting that of a Wizarding school. Dumbledore has too close of ties with Durmstrang and Beauxbatons for it to be believable without tiresome explanations and Salem is too overused. Thus…I created my own. Mweheh.

_Expecto Patronum_- Who, besides me, thinks it's unreasonable that the curriculum wouldn't have changed in fifty some odd years? Have you noticed how we're forced to grow up sooner than we used to in the past? This reflects that notion. Thus, the charm wasn't taught in fifth year as Hermione thought but in seventh year.

_Patronum Curriculum at New Zealand_- It is also unrealistic to presume that all Wizarding schools are homogenous in their teachings. They may focus on the more practical matters because- let's be honest here- without war, why would they ever have need to learn the Patronum charm?

_Wizarding Draft_- Come on, if the countries involved in WW2 had drafts, how is it possible that the Wizarding World with a population much more sparse than that of the Muggle World _not_ have a draft? Thus, the Ministry's intervention in Hermione's curriculum.

I think that's it. Questions?

Reviews are divine. Love you all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **K+

**Title**: Kill Time, Injure Eternity

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Cygnus Black, Alphard Black, Abraxas Malfoy, Charlus Potter, and more to be added in the future.

**Warnings**: Time turner meaning clichés all about. Mweheh.

**Date**: January 1st, 2010

**Note: ** Oh wow. Apparently the last time I updated was around this same time, 2 years ago. D:

**xxxxx**

_She looked across the wide-expanse of a room and locked gazes with a boy, now man, who was once a classmate, now foe. He stood to the left of a turned chair, his beautiful mother at his side. As for her, all she spied was the ornate back of the luxurious padding. There was someone seated in the chair if the thin filigree of smoke rising was any indication._

_A type of cold seeped deep into her bones. She shivered without really knowing, and in an attempt to bring some warmth back into her limbs, she picked up her right foot and rubbed it against her other ankle._

_How silly she must have looked, standing on one leg in her ratty clothing. She knew she shouldn't have cared, but she really couldn't afford to give anything away, even as uncomfortable as she was._

_She knew who was behind that chair. They knew she knew. Lucius Malfoy took his place to the right of the ornate chair, hands folded behind his back. The Malfoy parents seemed uncomfortable, while the son was simply expressionless._

_Sounds of pops ricocheted off the walls as shadowy figures revealed themselves in hooded robes and white, ghoulish masks._

"_My Lord?" Lucius spoke with the utmost reverence. The chair creaked and turned._

_This was to be her judgment day. _

_Her jurors, the masked demons. _

_Her judge, the devil himself._

**xxxxx**

He was nervous and he couldn't help the urge to start tapping his feet in order to shake some of the extra energy off. The large classroom where they held their quiet period was not without the occasional murmurs and a death glare or so from the Prefects that were assigned to watch them. The silence was still stifling.

Cygnus cast a glance at Prefect passing by. Then he reached over to tap the outstretched hand.

The witch looked up, expression somewhat dulled before annoyance crossed their features. Once she recognized who'd distracted her, annoyance quickly faded away to confusion and bemusement.

His lips quirked up in a half-grin as he ducked his head by way of apology.

She smiled and he felt silly that something so small could make him feel relief. "Do you need help with something? I'm very good at -," then as though catching herself, he saw it very visibly, as her features settled into something much more difficult to pick out. She cleared her throat, "I'm very good at proof-reading, if anything."

He arched an eyebrow. It was no secret to the school that the interesting newcomer had been recruited by the Ministry itself.

Most would have considered it an honor. Some would certainly see differently. Considering that being an Auror had never been a choice of profession for him, he was one of the few who saw differently. He wasn't so lacking in common sense that he didn't recognize the compliment for what it really was. She had something that the Ministry, and most definitely, Dumbledore himself, recognized; something that they found valuable and possibly useful against a current and most dangerous threat.

_Not to mention, the Dementors were STILL a topic of great conversation._

"Nothing of that sort." He finally found his voice. "I was wondering what you might be doing for the holidays?"

She blinked owlishly before she scrunched her face up in thought. _Winter vacation was still more than a month away._

It didn't look natural. It looked practiced.

_Intriguing._

"I'm not sure. No definite plans have been made." She paused and her shoulders relaxed. Again, it seemed practiced. "What are you doing?" It wasn't a question of curiosity but asked because of formality.

He didn't care and grinned before continuing on, "Alphard and I are spending the holidays with Abraxas. I understand you're originally from Australia? How are the winters like over there?"

"Same as anywhere else south of the equator," she shrugged nonchalantly. She picked up her quill again and began scratching away at her parchment, eager to finish the last paragraph or so.

_That was ambiguous. _Cygnus frowned slightly before he finally sighed and leaned back, looking very much like a dejected puppy. He knew his attentions were not wanted in the first place but…

_Well, he didn't know, not really. He didn't think an attempt would make such a blow at his pride._

Brown eyes watched him and then shuttered guiltily. She leaned in and cleared her throat, pulling his attention back. Once he raised his eyes, she gave a small smile, "My parents travel the world for work so most likely, I will be spending it here." _It didn't help that she was heavily behind on her advanced placement curriculum._

"Oh really?" His eyes brightened and she narrowed hers in suspicion. "Interesting." He rubbed his chin, eyes looking far into the distance as though a grand idea had struck and needed great pondering.

She clamped her jaw tightly. It wouldn't do to jump to conclusions. Whatever the Slytherin had planned, it was probably harmless. _That much_, she was sure of.

**xxxxx**

Abraxas was straightening his blue tie when the Slytherin half of the Black pair bounded into his dormitory, a grin spread across his face, looking for all the world eager and expectant.

"No." He immediately said at Cygnus' reflection. He had no idea what he would ask, just had an imperceptible sense that he would _not_ like it.

"You haven't even heard it!" He whinged.

Abraxas turned around and shoved a hand into the sleeve of an impeccably tailored robe. "I know that look and I know I don't like it. Whatever it is, count me out."

"But you're essential." Cygnus' face scrounged up in thought. "Well, not really you, per say. I just need your guardian's approval. Your _disapproval_ is of no consequence."

The blond wizard shot him a dirty look before he snappishly bit back, "My great uncle is and will be _forever _indisposed -," _so fond of the drink, that man was, _"- so it is _my approval _you need." Curiosity reigned supreme. "What is it?"

The harshness with which Malfoy asked did not perturbed the young Black one bit. Instead, he threw himself across the pristine sheets and grinned up at the wizard, waggling his eyebrows for maximum effect.

**xxxxx**

Hermione stood in the corner, happy with being able to see out the windows and yet, still retain her peripheral vision of the party on-goings. Another Slughorn get together with some prolific wizards and wizards for which she would have taken full advantage of in her own lifetime. Meeting them now would serve her no purpose whatsoever.

Something fizzy was shoved under her nose from behind and she instinctively drew back, only to hit a broad chest. She pulled into herself and looked up at the wizard that seemingly toward above her. His 5'11" height was no comparison for her 5'4". He stepped to the side, silvery-blond hair glinting in the candlelight flickers, chosen in lieu of lights for the 'atmosphere' it provided, Slughorn had explained.

"I thought you might like a drink," he simply commented before taking a sip of his own.

It was light and fruity with a bit of something extra she surmised was probably Firewhisky, the curly haired witch reached out and took it.

"Thank you," she had heard herself say before she too, took a sip.

He smiled satisfied before he leaned on the windowsill, glancing at all the other partygoers, hand-selected by Slughorn himself. "Enjoying yourself?"

She turned away from the window to look at him; his expression was as lacking in interest as much as his tone expressed but nevertheless she considered her words carefully. With anyone else, it would have been a straightforward answer. She'd learned that for a Malfoy, any bit of information they received was a tool for dissecting their victims - _their oppositions_. One should avoid at all costs, especially when it was packaged so innocuously.

"I'm thinking." She finally responded before turning back to the window and taking another sip of her drink. She could see him shift towards her, hand in pocket while the other hand motioned at the crowd with the drink in hand.

_He was hiding something._

"Shilling for your thoughts?"

She shrugged, hoping it looked as natural as she'd practiced it to be. "There was a written exam in transfiguration today. I'm trying to recall whether or not I wrote down the right amount of flicks for the Switching Spell."

"Ah, yes," his tone succinct, "Transfiguration…difficult subject, dangerous, very complex." His words were poignant but his tone belied his true feelings.

_He didn't believe her._

She could feel his eyes on her before she sighed and looked at him. "Are you going to ask me about it or not?" 'It' was not defined - did not have to be defined. They both knew what she was talking about.

Now it was his turn to contemplate his words. He licked his lips and looked down at his drink before glancing up at her once more. "I would just like to know what you're about."

She knew he'd seen her and Alphard. She also knew about Cygnus' _unfortunate_ crush. She was also very much aware of the fact that it had been Abraxas who stood guard outside in the hall so as to keep anybody else from entering the classroom and seeing the two in such a position.

_A hug in this decade apparently meant much more than a simple gesture of comfort._

"You're attracted to Alphard."

She was taken back. "What are you -,"

Abraxas didn't let her finish. "That much is obvious. But what of Cygnus?"

Hermione forced herself to back down even if she didn't like it. He was free to think however he wanted. _Not to mention, people of Malfoy's ilk would only take deniability as a roundabout sign of legitimacy._ "I've done nothing to lead him on," she ignored the question of Alphard altogether.

"But you've done nothing to dissuade him of the fact either," he pointed out.

She fingered the edge of her now-empty glass and tilted her head. "Cygnus is a bit of a ladies man, isn't he?"

_Not that she didn't already know the answer._

All Blacks, it seemed, were born with the characteristic, aristocratic, good looks and charisma in tons. "Isn't it his nature to chase a bit of skirt, now and then?"

"He's always serious."

A cynical look entered her eyes and she knew she was treading on dangerous waters. "Come now, being with a bird for one - at most two weeks - is not serious."

He lifted a finger to rub his lip; he was considering his words. It was a characteristic of his she'd picked up. "That's heartbreaking."

She hadn't expected those words. "What is?" Her curiosity pushed her to question.

"That you've already judged him based on what you've picked up from a few rumors here and there," he shrugged, "I thought you were a little better than that."

_He was baiting her and she wanted to bite._

"What would you have me think?" Her voice was lilting; a ruse she'd learned from her two very socially advanced roommates who knew how to play a conversation like a fiddler with his strings. "You blame me for being a tease in not answering his attractions, attractions he has yet to act on. When I speak truth, you blame me for being shallow. Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what other aspersions do you wish to cast upon my character?"

"You lie. Or else, you play ignorant very badly," he said quietly, "He has acted upon those feelings and I know you're very much aware of the fact that he holds affections for you, no matter how indifferent you may act towards him."

"Then wouldn't that be dissuading him?" She wondered afterwards if her voice came on a bit too strong there.

"Not when his brother is a tool in your machinations."

There was a stretch of silence and for a long while, all they could hear were the quiet conversations of the others surrounding them and the clinks of glass as drinks were poured and dishes filled with little treats.

She turned away from his probing stare to glance at the crowd. Most of them were faceless. She could place a few here and there but as for the rest, she'd never bothered remembering their names or who they were.

_So much for staying aware._

"In two weeks time," his still quiet voice broke her reverie, "both Cygnus and Alphard will ask you to the Yule Fair Masque Ball."

Her head turned towards him and she knew she wore a look of surprise.

"Alphard suspects Cygnus will want to do so. Out of fairness -,"

She bristled. _What fairness? This was ridiculously archaic. She didn't belong to anyone, much less a Black who apparently 'sighted' her first._ Though Malfoy didn't say it, she knew that that was in fact, certainty.

" - he will wait and see if he follows through. Cygnus, for all his bravado, is a shy boy and it will take him a bit to gather the courage needed to ask a formidable woman like yourself." The end of his lip quirked up. "I wager he will take a little bit too long which will then prompt Alphard to ask you."

She rolled her eyes. "You've put too much thought into this." Her hands tightened around the glass, belying her temper when her actions did not.

"You'll say no -," he sounded very much assured.

"That's presumptuous." Her lip was now, a thin, white line.

_Of course she'd say no. She hated going to those worthless things._

"- because you'll be going with me."

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. _Now she was utterly confused._

He must've sensed it because he faced her and then deftly plucked the glass out from between her hands. "I would rather they share a common enemy in me, than each other. I'm much easier to forgive anyway, charming as I am." He winked at this point, but there was no playfulness beyond the grey orbs.

"No." She refused after the initial shock wore off.

Abraxas hardly batted an eye as he pushed himself away from the window. "Wear something green. It's my favorite color."

She watched him retreat into the crowd, her hand gripping the windowsill, knuckles white.

From across the room, a pair of green eyes watched with avid curiosity.

**xxxxx**

**End Notes:**

As always, many thanks to Nicole, my wonderful beta. :D I absolutely adore you!

I have been getting a lot of notes about the confusion with eyes. After not updating this story for so long, I sort of forgot the colors myself so I had to comb through the chapters just to make sure I wasn't mucking anything up. [In fact, I had to do several read-through of KTIE just to make sure everything coincided with one another. D:] Anyway, here they are for future references:

Cygnus Black- cerulean blue

Alphard Black- just blue

Abraxas Malfoy- grey

Caspar Crouch- amber

Tom Riddle- green

Charlus Potter- green


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